UC-NRLF 


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STARVING  ON  A 
BED  OF  GOLD 


OR 


LONGEST  FAST 


By  JAMES  A.  HALL 


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LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT    OF 


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I 


Starving  on  a  Bed  of  Gold 


OR 


The  World's  Longest  Fast 


BY 

JAMES  A.  HALL 
WATSONVILLE,  CALIFORNIA 


Press  of  the 

Sentinel,  Santa  Cruz,  California 
1909 


COPYRIGHT,  19a9, 
BY  JAMES  A.  HALL. 
(All  Rights  Reserved  .) 


JAMES  A.  HALL  ON  JULY  17TH,  1900 


PREFACE. 


All  of  this  book,  except  Chapter  VI,  was  written  while  I  was 
imprisoned  in  bleak  Alaska.  Time  hung  heavily  on  my  hands 
and  dnring  the  long  sunless  days  of  winter  it  was  a  great  relief 
to  me  to  have  something  to  occupy  my  time.  It  was  generally 
known  among  the  miners  that  I  was  writing  the  story  of  my 
experience  and  I  had  hundreds  of  applications  for  the  little 
volume,  even  before  I  left  the  country.  On  my  arrival  in 
California,  some  of  the  largest  dailies  on  the  Pacific  Coast  made 
full  page  Sunday  stories  of  the  matter,  and  incidentally  men- 
tioned that  I  had  written  a  book  on  the  subject. 

^  veral  ministers  have  used  the  facts  to  illustrate  their 
sermons.  All  this  publicity  has  caused  many  applications  to 
be  made  to  me  for  the  book  when  published.  This  constant 
demand  is  my  excuse  for  giving  it  to  the  public. 

.TAMES  A-  HALL. 

Watsonville,  California,  Feb.  22nd,  1909. 


143 


DEDICATION. 

I  would  be  ungrateful  if  I  did  not  dedicate  this  little  volume 
to  Judge  Charles  Udell,  formerly  of  Los  Angeles,  California,  the 
man  who  more  than  all  others,  rendered  me  aid  and  assistance, 
after  I  was  rescued,  though  I  had  never  met  him  until  I  went 
to  Alaska. 

May  God,  in  his  mercy  and  justice,  bless  and  prosper  him. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    START 

I  was  sitting  in  iny  law  office  in  San  Francisco,  one  afternoon 
in  the  early  part  of  March,  1900,  when  ray  clerk  brought  me  in 
the  card  of  one  of  the  surgeons  connected  with  the  City  Receiv- 
ing Hospital. 

The  doctor  was  a  frequent  caller,  and  after  some  conversa- 
tion on  commonplace  subjects,  informed  me  he  had  the  gold 
fever,  was  going  to  Alaska,  and  wanted  me  to  go  along.  I 
told  him  I  could  not  go,  that  I  did  not  think  I  could  stand  the 
hardships  of  that  kind  of  life.  Finally,  after  some  days  of 
consideration,  I  agreed  to  take  the  trip. 

We  engaged  passage  on  the  Thrasher,  one  of  the  many  vessels 

belonging  to  the  Pacific   Steam   Whaling   Company.      It  was 

advertised  to  sail  on  the  21st   of  April.     I   then   invited  the 

>r  to  spend  a  week  or  so  with  me  at  Rose  Hill,  my  father's 

ranch  near  Watsonville,  Santa  Cruz  County,  California. 

After  a  pleasant  visit  we  returned  to  San  Francisco,  and 
began  active  preparations  for  the  long,  dangerous  journey.  I 
had  never  been  outside  of  California  in  my  life,  had  never  even 
been  in  a  half  inch  of  suow.  and  was  now  preparing  to  start 
to  one  of  the  bleakest,  coldest  and  most  barren  countries  in  the 
world. 

Finally  the  sailing  day  of  the  Thrasher  came.  She  was  about 
the  first  steamboat  to  start  for  the  gold  fields  in  the  spring  of 
1900.  and  was  a  converted  whaler.  Like  the  fish  after  which 
she  was  named,  she  had  killed  many  whales  in  her  day.  The 
boat  had  one  great  advantage  over  the  ordinary  passenger 
vessel — she  was  an  i;ice  bucker";  her  prow  was  ten  or  twelve 
feet  thick  and  sheathed  on  the  outside,  so  she  could  safely  ram 
the  ice.  A  new  deck  had  been  built  on  forward  and  the  'tween 
decks  was  filled  with  tiers  of  bunks,  leaving  just  room  for  the 
dining  table.  Over  two  hundred  souls  were  to  be  transported  on 
a  ship  that  would  not  comfortably  carry-half  that  number.  But 


S  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

as  every  additional  passenger  meant  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  dollars  to  her  owners,  the  old  saying,  "There  is  always 
room  for  one  more, ' '  was  applied  with  vigor. 

Promptly  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  warning 
whistle  sounded,  and  then  many  sad  partings  were  witnessed 
between  relatives  and  friends.  "Au  Revoir,"  (till  we  meet 
again),  are  hard  words  to  say  under  these  circumstances,  but 
with  many  a  poor  unfortunate  the  Saxon  words,  "Goodbye," 
were  more  appropriate.  It  has  been  said  that  a  metallic  casket 
is  a  necessary  part  of  every  well  selected  outfit — if  you  do  not 
need  it  yourself,  you  can  always  sell  it  for  a  good  price.  There 
was  certainly  a  great  demand  for  them  the  winter  I  spent  hi 
Alaska.  Very  few  relatives  or  friends  will  allow  the  bones  of 
their  loved  ones  to  rest  in  the  bleak  mountains  of  a  country 
like  this,  if  they  can  help  it. 

At  last  the  starting  whistle  blew,  the  gang  plank  was  drawn 
in,  and  we  were  under  way  to  the  celebrated  gold  fields. 

The  thoughts  and  feelings  that  possess  the  average  passenger 
starting  on  a  dangerous  trip  as  he  looks,  perhaps,  for  the  last 
time,  upon  the  faces  of  loved  relatives  and  friends,  can  never 
be  told  in  words.  If  the  reader  has  ever  had  the  experience, 
the  sentiment  will  be  fully  understood. 

As  we  passed  through  the  beautiful  Golden  Gate  into  the 
arms  of  the  grim  old  ocean,  a  flood  of  thoughts  came  over  me. 
I  realized  that  my  dangers  would  be  many,  but  fully  intended 
to  return  in  the  fall  and  not  brave  the  terrors  of  an  Arctic 
winter.  But  "man  proposes  and  God  disposes."  I  was  com- 
pelled, much  against  my  will,  to  remain  for  a  year  and  a  half 
in  the  land  of  the  Eskimo. 

Old  Neptune  was  in  a  bad  humor  the  day  we  started  and  we 
glided  out  of  the  comparatively  smooth  waters  of  San  Francisco 
Bay  into  a  terrific  storm.  In  less  than  half  an  hour  every 
passenger  on  board,  except  about  six  of  us,  was  in  his  bunk, 
groaning  from  seasickness.  The  attendance  at  the  dining 
table  was,  for  several  days,  very  slight. 

Every  shipload  of  people,  like  every  town  or  city,  contains 
its  "characters".  We  were  no  exception  to  the  rule.  The 
most  noted  person  on  board  was,  probably,  Sergeant  Wright, 
the  color  officer  of  the  regiment  of  Rough  Riders  who  fought  so 
"bravely  at  San  Juan  and  other  battlefields,  in  the  late  Spanish 


OR,   THE    WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  9 

War.  The  Sergeant  planted  Old  Glory  on  San  Juan  Hill.  I 
chanced  to  have,  among  my  books,  a  magazine  that  contained 
his  picture  and  a  full  history  of  his  many  acts  of  bravery.  He 
was  easily  the  lion  of  the  voyage.  Tall,  slim  and  wiry,  with 
dark  hair  and  eyes,  he  looked  the  typical  Eough  Eider  that  he 
was.  The  Sergeant  was  a  good  conversationalist,  and  after  his 
seasickness  wore  off,  used  to  interest  us  by  the  hour  with  tales 
of  the  war.  He  was  very  sparing  in  the  use  of  the  capital  "I," 
but  could  not  sing  the  praises  of  Colonel  Eoosevelt  and  his 
gallant  band  too  loudly. 

The  comical  character  of  the  boat  was  "Ike,"  a  young  Jewish 
gold  hunter.  Ike  was  always  in  some  trouble.  He  knew  the 
location  of  every  whisky  bottle  on  board,  and,  although  not  a 
heavy  drinker,  was  never  at  a  loss  for  a  taste  when  he  wanted 
it.  He  was  one  of  a  party  of  six  from  Tacoma,  Washington. 
"Deep  Creek  Jones,"  the  head  of  the  little  company,  was  him- 
self a  man  with  a  State  reputation.  He  had  been  for  some 
years  the  chairman  of  the  Democratic  State  Central  Committee 
of  that  State,  and  was  a  fluent  talker  and  polished  gentleman. 
He  was  one  of  the  favorites  of  the  ship. 

** Murphy"  was  among  the  fun  makers  of  the  voyage.  He 
was  a  son  of  the  late  Judge  Murphy  of  Del  Xorte  County,  Cali- 
fornia, a  big,  raw-boned  boy,  good  natured  and  good  hearted; 
his  pranks  served  to  while  away  many  weary  hours  for  us. 

"Dad"  Trenchel  was  another  of  the  ship's  wits.  He  had  in 
his  company  two  young  men.  If  "Dad"  had  not  been  partic- 
ularly good  natured,  life  would  have  been  a  burden  because  of 
the  numerous  pranks  they  played  on  him,  but  he  generally  paid 
them  back  in  their  own  coin,  much  to  our  amusement. 

A  young  San  Franciscan  named  McGimiiss  was  one  of 
the  greatest  fun  makers  on  board.  His  innocent  pranks  helped 
horten  many  hours  of  the  long,  dreary  trip.  At  an  enter- 
tainment of  ours,  one  evening,  McGinniss  was  called  upon  to  do 
something  for  our  amusement.  He  said  he  would  try  to  relate 
a  little  incident  that  happened  to  him  and  his  friend,  Murphy. 
It  occurred  a  week  or  so  ago  before  he  started  on  this  trip. 
Murphy  lived  on  top  of  Telegraph  Hill,  in  San  Francisco. 
They  had  been  spending  Saturday  evening  together,  and  Mc- 
Minniss  had  gone  home  with  him  to  stay  all  night.  The  next 
morning  at  eleven  o'clock  they  were  having  a  late  breakfast  to- 


10  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

gether,  when  a  rap  came  at  the  dining  room  door.  Murphy 
said  "come  in/'  and  in  walked  an  Italian  fish  peddler  with  a 
big  basket  of  fish  on  his  shoulders.  "You  likee  buy  fish, 
Mister;  nicea  fresha  fish;  he  no  dead  yet,  just  catcha  him;  heapa 
cheap. ' '  Murphy  was  not  feeling  very  well  that  morning,  and 
he  told  the  fishman,  in  very  plain  terms,  not  to  bother  them 
with  his  fish,  but  the  fellow  was  so  persistent  that  Murphy  had 
to  almost  throw  him  out.  The  day  was  a  hot  one,  and  the  grade 
of  the  hill  was  very  steep.  After  the  Italian  had  been  gone  for 
a  few  moments  a  happy  thought  struck  Murphy;  going  out  on 
the  porch  he  put  his  hand  to  the  side  of  his  mouth  and  yelling 
as  loud  as  he  could,  succeeded  in  attracting  the  attention  of  the 
fishmonger;  he  then  beckoned  him  to  come  back.  The  fellow, 
no  doubt,  had  visions  of  a  big  sale,  and  toiled  up  the  hill  again 
with  his  heavy  basket  on  his  shoulders,  large  drops  of  perspira- 
tion rolling  off  him;  finally  nearly  tired  out,  he  arrived  at 
Murphy's.  Murphy,  shaking  his  index  finger  at  him,  said: 
"And  see  here,  you  Dago,  we  don't  want  any  fish  next  Sunday; 
do  you  understand? "  McGinniss  said  he  had  all  he  could  do 
to  keep  the  fellow  from  braining  Murphy  then  and  there. 

The  heavy  storm  that  was  awaiting  us  as  we  passed  out  of 
the  Golden  Gat  >  continued  to  increase,  and  you  can  safely  sur- 
mise that  this  change  was  not  at  all  welcome  to  those  poor  souls 
who  were  suffering  with  "mal  de  mer."  Night  came  on  and 
the  staunch  old  boat  was  tossed  about  like  a  straw.  Tons  of 
water  came  down  the  hatchways,  and  through  the  seams  of  the 
boat,  and  was  a  foot  deep,  in  some  places,  under  our  bunks. 
The  lights  had  been  turned  out,  and  dismal  darkness  reigned 
supreme.  About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  one  of  the  life 
boats  washed  away,  and,  as  it  fell  from  the  davits,  one  end  of 
it  struck  the  side  of  the  ship,  making  a  noise  that  sounded  like 
the  crack  of  doom.  A  poor  fellow  on  the  port  side  of  the  ship, 
just  under  where  the  boat  struck,  imagined  that  the  judgment 
day  had  come,  and  yelled  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "Come  over 
to  this  side,  all  you  fellows ;  the  ship 's  going  over. ' '  Word  was 
passed  from  bunk  to  bunk  that  the  vessel  had  sprung  a  bad 
leak,  and  that  we  were  trying  to  make  port  again;  this  turned 
out  to  be  a  false  rumor.  When  daylight  came,  we  found  a 
rough  sea  and  a  laboring  ship,  but  were  assured  by  the  captain 
that  there  was  little  or  no  danger.  This  was  a  great  relief  to 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  11 

most  of  us.  We  had  already  learned  to  have  a  great  deal  ol 
faith  in  noble  Tom  Ellis,  the  acting  captain;  he  was  the 
favorite  of  the  whole  shipload  of  passengers. 

We  who  had  left  loved  ones  at  home,  were  afraid  that  the 
life  boat  would  be  washed  ashore  and  found,  thus  causing  our 
friends  and  relatives  to  think  we  were  lost  at  sea.  Our  fears 
were  not  unfounded  for  when  we  got  to  Dutch  Harbor  we 
learned  that  we  had  been  reported  wrecked.  The  storm  finally 
calmed,  but  we  were  buffeted  by  adverse  winds,  and  driven  in 
the  opposite  direction  to  our  true  course. 

A  few  nights  afterward  another  storm  struck  us,  and  we  lost 
a  second  life  boat.  When,  at  last,  fair  weather  did  put  in  an 
appearance  those  who  had  been  so  seasick  gradually  recovered, 
and  we  all  began  to  get  better  acquainted.  I  will  never  forget 
the  first  general  assembly  of  passengers  on  the  after-deck  in 
the  evening.  A  male  quartette  got  together  and  the  first  song 
they  sang  brought  back  to  me  a  flood  of  recollections.  It  was 
i  i  The  Old  Oaken  Bucket, ' '  a  song  that  my  mother  had  sung  to 
me  when  a  child,  and  also  one  of  the  last  songs  some  friends  of 
mine  had  sung  before  I  left  "the  States." 

After  the  storms  were  over,  and  the  passengers  had  recovered 
from  their  seasickness,  we  spent  most  of  the  day  and  early 
evening  on  the  after-deck  telling  stories,  planning  our  mining 
future,  and  entertaining  ourselves  generally.  Long  before  we 
reached  Dutch  Harbor,  the  first  and  only  stopping  point  ere  we 
arrived  at  Xonie,  bets  were  being  made  among  the  passengers 
on  the  time  it  would  take  us  to  get  there ;  one  lost  three  hundred 
dollars  on  the  ship's  sailing  time  to  that  point.  Finally,  on 
Hay  17th,  we  arrived  at  that  port.  It  was  my  first  experience 
in  the  snow.  I  had  lived  nearly  all  my  life  in  Santa  Cruz  and 
Monterey  Counties  in  California,  and  had  never  been,  as  before 
said,  in  a  half  inch  of  snow. 

There  is  an  old  Eussian  settlement  at  Dutch  Harbor,  and  it 
is  principally  populated  by  Aleut  Indians  and  their  .  dogs. 
There  are  a  few  white  men  in  business  there,  but  half  breeds 
and  full  blooded  Aleuts  are  in  the  majority.  This  was  the  first 
of  Indian  semi-civilization  that  many  of  us  had  seen.  They 
gave  a  squaw  dance  the  night  we  were  -there,  but  I  did  not 
attend.  I  was  told  that  it  was  conducted  very  much  like  a 
leap-year  party  in  "the  States."  The  women  chose  their 
partners. 


12  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

The  Barabaras,  or  native  Aleut  house  is  nothing  but  a  rock 
or  wooden  frame  with  some  kind  of  hide,  generally  walrus, 
stretched  over  it;  every  well  built  house  has  a  bath  attachment. 
The  bath  house  contains  a  pool  of  water,  a  kind  of  fireplace  and 
some  rocks.  They  heat  the  rocks  red  hot,  and  throw  them  into 
the  pool ;  a  dense  steam  is  thus  generated.  When  the  bather  is 
well  heated  up  and  thoroughly  steamed  he  plunges  into  the  near- 
est ice  water  for  a  few  moments.  They  claim  this  will  cure  most 
diseases,  and  it  certainly  seems  very  effective  in  some  cases. 
His  northern  neighbor,  the  Eskimo,  never  takes  a  bath  unless 
he  falls  in  while  after  the  festive  walrus  or  seal. 

We  were  told  at  Dutch  Harbor  that  we  would  find  the  ice 
about  five  hundred  miles  out — and  we  did.  We  struck  it  in 
the  night  time.  Next  morning  when  we  arose  nothing  but  snow- 
covered  fields  of  ice  were  visible  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  It 
was  a  pleasant  change  for  a  time  but  soon  became  very  monoto- 
nous. I  was  almost  asleep  when  we  ' 'bucked  the  first  ice, ' '  and 
had  a  half  formed  idea  in  my  mind  that  we  had  run  aground, 
but  when  we  began  backing  off,  and  then  taking  a  rapid  pace 
ahead  I  realized  our  position.  The  Thrasher  is  said  to  be  the 
best  "ice  bucker"  on  the  coast;  she  will  back  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  or  so,  then,  with  full  speed  ahead,  strike  the  solid  ice 
cracking  it  in  twain,  and  going  as  far  as  her  impetus  will  carry 
her.  Then  she  will  repeat  the  operation  until  a  passage  is 
made.  The  "ice  captain, "  in  this  case  our  acting  captain,  is 
located  in  the  "crow's  nest"  near  the  top  of  the  foremast. 
He  can  see  from  his  elevation  the  best  path  to  pursue,  and 
gives  his  commands  to  one  of  the  mates,  who  is  situated  in  the 
front  of  the  wheel  house ;  the  mate  repeats  the  command  to  the 
man  at  the  wheel.  About  one-third  of  the  thickness-  of  the  ice 
is  above  the  water  line  and  two-thirds  below,  so  the  captain 
easily  estimates  how  heavy  the  ice  is  ahead  of  him.  There 
were  very  few  people  on  the  boat  who  had  ever  seen  "ice 
bucking ' '  before,  and  it  was  an  interesting  experience  to  us  all, 
at  first,  but  soon  became  very  tiresome.  We  met  with  a  some- 
what stirring  incident  after  we  had  been  in  the  ice  fields  a  few 
days.  The  ice  ahead  of  us  seemed  to  be  unusually  heavy,  and 
Captain  Ellis  decided  to  tie  up  to  some  * l  ground  ice ' '  near  where 
we  were,  and  wait  until  prospects  were  better.  l  i  Ground  ice. ' '  as 
the  name  implies,  extends  down  to  the  ground.  The  piece  we 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  13 

tied  to  was  several  acres  in  extent,  and  in  places  was  forty  or 
fifty  feet  high,  an  ice  island  as  it  were.  Two  heavy  hawsers  were 
thrown  out,  and  tied  to  immense  pillars  of  ice.     There  were  a 
couple  of  acres  of  level  ice,  and  as  soon  as  the  boat  was  made 
fast  we  all  climbed  out,  glad  of  the  chance  to  exercise  a  little, 
after  weeks  of  confinement.      AVe  had  "tugs  of  war,"  played 
"prisoner's  base,"  and  in  fact,  behaved  like   a   lot   of  school 
children  just  turned  out  for  recess.    "We  all  got  back  on  the  boat 
before  dark  and  retired,  feeling  much  better  for  our  exercise. 
When  we  awoke  in  the  morning  quite  a  heavy  wind  was  blow- 
ing; several  passengers,  although  cautioned  by  Captain  Ellis, 
went  off  on  the  island  again.     The  wind  increased  in  fury,  and 
the  ice  mountains  began  to  break  and  slide,  with  a  noise  like 
thunder,  into  the  sea.       All  but  two  of  the  passengers  got  back 
into  the  boat  as  soon  as  they  saw  the  ice  beginning  to  break. 
These  two  had  taken  their   guns    in  the  hope    of    shooting  a 
walrus  or  seal,  and  had  wandered  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
island.     We  all  beckoned  to  them  to  return  at  once,  and  the 
captain  blew  a  number  of  warning  blasts.     They  ran  for  the 
ship,  and  by  throwing  them  ropes  we  managed  to  get  them 
aboard,  frightened  half  to  death.     The  wind  became  a  hurri- 
cane and  mountains  of  ice  were  breaking  off  all  around  us,  and 
lashed  by  the  fury  of  the  sea,  were  making  every  moment  more 
dangerous.     One  of  the  hawsers  had  parted,  but  still  the  cap- 
tain dreaded  to  undertake  the  run  for  the  clear  water  we  could 
see  about  half  a  mile  off,  on  the  side  of  the  island  that  the  wind 
was  blowing  toward.     Finally,  it  became  apparent  that  to  stay 
in  this  position  any  longer,  meant  that   our   ship  would  be 
crushed  like  an  egg  shell.     All  was  excitement  aboard;  passen- 
gers were  rushing  hither  and  thither;  some  ten  or  fifteen  had 
gotten  hold  of  a  large  spar,  and  were  attempting  to  push  away 
the  icebergs  that  came  near  us.     Twenty  Samsons  would  not 
have  moved  one    of   them.     Captain  Humphries,    and   acting 
Captain  Ellis  were  on  the  bridge,  and  we  could  plainly  see  that 
both  were  very  nervous.     In  a  few  moments    we  beheld  two 
immense    icebergs    approaching,     one    on   each    side    of   tne 
Thrasher — the  one  on  the  lee  side  of  the  ship  having  broken 
from  the  island  within  a  few  feet  of  us  it  was  plain  that  if  they 
both  struck  us  at  once  we  were  gone.     Just  then  Captain  Ellis, 
liis  voice  sounding  above  the  roar  of  the  storm,  yelled.  "Cut 


14  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

away  that  rope. ' '  The  first  mate  seized  an  ax  and  cut  the  rope ; 
the  wheels  began  to  turn  and,  in  a  few  moments,  we  were 
threading  our  way  among  the  icebergs  for  clear  water.  For- 
tune favored  us,  and  in  a  short  time  we  were  out  of  danger, 
with  no  damage  but  the  loss  of  about  a  hundred  dollars '  worth 
of  rope. 

One  of  the  passengers,  when  the  excitement  was  at  its  height, 
rushed  on  deck  with  a  six-shooter  in  one  hand  and  his  grip  in 
the  other,  while  his  face  was  the  color  of  marble.  We  asked  him 
afterward  what  he  had  intended  to  do;  he  said  he  knew  there 
were  not  half  enough  life  boats  to  go  around,  and  he  proposed 
to  have  a  seat  in  one.  He  did  not  stop  to  think  that  a  life  boat 
would  not  have  lived  a  minute  in  that  sea  of  icebergs.  The 
poor  fellow  did  not  hear  the  last  of  it  during  the  rest  of  the 
trip.  We  had  some  good  artists  aboard,  and  his  picture,  with 
a  gun  in  one  hand  and  the  grip  in  the  other,  adorned  several 
bunks. 

The  rest  of  the  trip  was  uneventful,  and  on  May  28th  we 
dropped  anchor  in  Nome  harbor,  and  the  much  talked  of  Mecca 
of  the  gold  seeker  was  before  us.  A  feeling  akin  to  awe  came 
over  me  as  I  gazed  at  this  tented  city  through  the  gloaming  of 
the  evening.  I  was  reminded  of  that  ancient  city  whose  name 
rhymes  with  this  one,  and  which,  from  her  seven  hills,  ruled  the 
world,  and  I  wondered  if  people  were  as  greedy  after  gold  in 
those  days  as  they  are  today.  I  also  wondered  which  was  con- 
ducive of  the  more  sorrow — the  greed  for  power  possessed  by 
the  Romans  or  the  greed  for  gold  which  seems  to  possess  us 
modern  mortals.  The  world  will  never  know  the  extent  of  the 
pain,  sorrow  and  suffering  that  has  been  caused  by  that  mystic 
word  "Nome,"  during  its  existence.  In  one  week,  during  the 
summer  of  1900,  twenty-five  bodies  were  washed  up  on  the 
beach  between  Nome  and  Topkok,  a  mining  camp  sixty  miles 
down  the  coast.  Undoubtedly,  only  a  small  proportion  of  the 
bodies  were  washed  ashore  there.  In  the  winter  of  1900-1, 
between  the  same  two  points,  and  in  about  the  same  length  of 
time,  nearly  as  many  were  frozen  to  death,  not  counting  those 
who  had  arms  and  legs  frozen  off.  Were  the  seven  or  eight 
millions  of  dollars  taken  out  in  the  past  two  years  enough  to 
balance  the  suffering,  pain  and  sorrow  endured  by  these  poor 
men,  and  incidentally,  their  families,  remembering  that  this 


OR,   THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST 


15 


does  not  include  the  suffering  of  those  who  did  not  die,  and 
further  remembering  that  those  who  died  on  that  short  coast 
line  were  a  very,  very  small  moiety  of  the  total  number  during 
the  entire  two  years,  in  all  of  Alaska  ?  This  means  hundreds  of 
families  left  without  their  bread-winner,  and  carrying  a  load  of 
grief  instead  of  gold.  Can  anybody  say  that  eight  millions,  or 
even  fifty  millions  would  offset  all  this  ? 

While  I  was  standing  at  the  rail  contemplating  the  metropolis 
of  the  gold  fields,  most  of  the  passengers  had  gone  ashore  in  the 
numerous  small  boats  that  swarmed  around  the  ship's  sides  as 
soon  as  we  dropped  anchor;  as  my  destination  was  Port 
Clarence,  about  sixty  miles  further  northward,  and  the 
Thrasher  was  to  remain  here  a  week  before  going  on  up,  I  de- 
cided to  stay  on  board  at  night,  and  inspect  Xome  and  vicinity 
in  the  davtime. 


16  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

THE  GOLD  SEEKERS. 


The  panting  steamer  slowly  drops 
Away  from  the  crowded  pier; 

The  blackened  deck  recedes  from  view, 
And  leaves  me  musing  here. 

Away  where  the  gold  so  warm  and  red, 
Lies  hid  in  the  dark  earth's  breast; 

Little  they  reck  of  danger  or  cold, 
Aglow  with  the  golden  quest. 

The  rosy  youth  with  kindling  eye, 
In  his  manhood's  early  dawn; 

The  pale  man  with  the  student's  stoop, 
The  stalwart  man  of  brawn. 

All,  each  and  all,  with  fevered  gaze, 

Fixed  on  the  fields  of  gold; 
Ah,  well-a-day !  for  a  faith  that 's  firm, 

And  a  heart  that  is  brave  and  bold. 

For  those  there  be  who  will  come  again, 
All  broken  and  worn  and  wan; 

While  others  left  in  the  Arctic  snows, 
Will  slumber  forever  on. 

And  some  will  empty-handed  come, 
Who  have  missed  the  golden  goal, 

And  some  with  gold,  too  dear,  alas ! 
The  price  of  a  sinless  soul. 

And  those  at  home  will  sit  at  night— 

While  the  wind  sweeps  where  it  wills — 

With  heart  away  in  a  shambling  shack 
In  the  wild  Alaskan  hills. 

'Tis  thus  I  muse  on  the  lonely  quay, 

Whence  the  hurrying  crowd  is  gone — 
Whilst  far  away  for  the  frozen  north 
A  line  of  smoke  trains  go  on. 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  17 

CHAPTER  II. 

AN  EXCITING  TRIP  THROUGH  THE  ICE. 

On  June  5th,  1900,  the  good  ship  Thrasher  weighed  anchor, 
and  we  left  Xoine  for  Cape  York  and  way  stations.  As  before 
said,  I  wanted  to  go  to  Port  Clarence  Bay,  between  Nome  and 
York,  but  it  was  understood  that  the  ship  would  go  to  the  latter 
place  first.  Just  before  we  steamed  out  of  Xome  Harbor,  the 
bark  Alaska  sailed  around  the  stern  of  our  boat  and 
dropped  anchor  immediately  off  our  starboard  side.  It  proved 
to  be  the  last  time  her  hook  ever  fell.  She  was  a  total  wreck 
the  second  morning  afterwards,  and  had  one  or  two  other  ships 
for  company.  Little  did  we  think,  as  our  steamer  gave  the 
customary  three  toots — the  nautical  goodbye — and  was 
answered  by  three  dips  of  the  flag,  that  ere  a  second  sun  had 
risen,  her  bones  would  lie  bleaching  on  that  cheerless,  barren, 
inhospitable  shore.  I  have  forgotten  how  many  lives  were  lost 
that  night,  but  there  were  a  number.  For  several  hours  we 
sailed  along  towards  our  destination  very  smoothly.  About 
dark,  something  of  a  storm  came  on;  as  the  ice  was  very  thick, 
Captain  Ellis  decided  to  stand  well  out  at  sea;  when  morning 
arrived  we  found  we  were  many  miles  off  shore,  and  almost 
opposite  Cape  York.  As  the  captain  had  mail  for  Missionary 
Lopp  at  Cape  Prince  of  Wales,  which  by  the  way,  was  in  sight, 
he  determined  to  go  to  that  place  first.  When  we  came  shore- 
ward we  could  see  two  boats  lying  at  York,  one  a  steamer,  the 
other  a  sailing  vessel.  We  soon  dropped  anchor  in  Bering 
Straits,  off  Cape  Prince  of  Wales.  The  sea  was  rather  rough 
and  some  wind  blowing,  and  it  was  an  hour  or  so  before  any 
of  the  natives  ventured  to  come  out  to  us.  Finally  several 
boatloads  came,  bringing  the  missionary  with  them.  It  was 
my  first  meeting  with  the  Eskimo  in  his  native  wilds.  As  they 
came  through  the  water  in  their  skin  boats,  and  climbed  over 
the  ship's  sides,  in  their  peculiar  dress,  thoughts  of  my  school 
days  and  the  pictures  so  interesting  to  me  in  the  old  geog- 
raphies flashed  through  my  mind.  I  have  since  become  so 
accustomed  to  them  that  they  do  not  seem  anything  out  of  the 
ordinary;  in  fact,  are  very  commonplace  individuals.  We  did 
some  trading  with  them;  I  remember  paying  one  of  them 
twenty  dollars  for  a  skin  boat,  and  it  proved  to  be  one  of  the 


18  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

most  useful  purchases  I  made  in  Alaska.  The  skin  boat  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  light  frame,  made  something  in  the 
shape  of  our  small  boats,  and  covered  with  walrus  skin.  They 
are  of  all  sizes,  very  light,  and  if  properly  handled  and  cared 
for,  are  durable;  they  should  never  be  left  with  water  in  them 
as  the  skin  soon  softens.  You  are  obliged  to  step  very  care- 
fully, and  only  on  the  frame  work,  or  you  may  have  a  hole 
through  the  bottom  the  size  of  your  foot.  If  carefully  bal- 
anced a  big  load  may  be  carried  in  them. 

There  are  few  if  any  whites  at  this  village  except  the  mis- 
sionary and  his  wife.  Mr.  Lopp,  who  has  been  in  charge  here 
for  years,  is  well  spoken  of  by  the  natives  and  whites;  in  fact, 
I  have  met  some  of  the  natives  who  thought  him  almost  infal- 
lible. He  was  formerly  a  teacher  here,  and  afterwards  given 
charge  of  the  mission.  I  am  reminded  of  a  story  told  by  some 
sacrilegious  people  in  this  country;  they  say  that  those  who 
preach  the  gospel  here  have  to  describe  Hades  as  a  very  cold 
place  instead  of  a  very  hot  one,  as  the  poor  native  is  much 
inclined  to  favor  a  warmer  climate. 

After  spending  a  few  hours  at  anchor,  we  started  for  Cape 
York,  with  thirty  or  forty  natives  and  the  missionary  aboard, 
their  skin  boats  trailing  behind  the  ship.  In  a  short  time  we 
arrived  there;  passengers  who  expected  to  get  off  were  on 
deck,  their  luggage  and  blankets  at  hand,  all  ready  to  be  set 
ashore,  and  everybody  was  waiting  for  the  anchor  chain  to 
rattle.  Suddenly  Captain  Ellis,  who  was  on  the  bridge  called 
in  stentorian  tones  to  those  in  charge  below,  lt Don't  drop  that 
anchor."  We  heard  him  immediately  ring  for  "full  speed 
ahead".  Astonished,  we  all  looked  seaward,  and,  in  the  dis- 
tance could  be  seen  a  long  white  line,  so  well  known  to  every  ice 
captain.  A  storm  was  coming,  driving  the  icebergs  before  it. 
One  ship,  the  steamer  that  we  had  seen  on  our  way  up,  was  well 
outside  the  ice  line.  The  sailing  vessel  had  also  seen  the 
danger,  but  was  powerless  to  get  out  of  it.  We  did  not  wait 
to  land  natives  or  anybody  else,  but  started  for  the  open  sea 
as  fast  as  steam  and  sail  could  carry  us.  The  poor  vessel  that 
was  left  fired  lier  gun,  and  turned  her  flag  upside  down,  signals 
of  distress,  but  it  was  our  ship  and  the  lives  of  her  passengers 
against  the  others,  and  we  had  not  a  moment  to  spare.  The 
natives,  well  used  to  aquatic  exercises,  climbed  over  the  stern 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  19 

of  the  boat  while  we  were  under  full  speed,  reminding  ine  of 
frogs  jumping  into  a  mill  pond;  the  squaws  seemed  even  more 
expert  than  the  bucks.  Soon  the  storm  struck  us,  but.  we  had 
rounded  the  ice  and  were  no  longer  in  danger  of  being  driven 
ashore  by  it.  When  we  reached  clear  water,  the  captain  turned 
the  ship 's  stern  to  the  gale  and  we  scudded  before  the  wind ;  on, 
on  we  flew,  faster  than  we  had  ever  traveled  on  the  Thrasher  be- 
fore. Night  dropped  her  sable  curtain  over  the  scene,  but  the 
frightful  howling  of  the  wind  through  the  rigging  told  us,  as  we 
lay  in  our  bunks,  of  the  condition  of  affairs  around  us.  Mari- 
ners say  that  though  the  Bering  Sea  is  shallow,  it  can  generate  a 
more  dangerous  storm  than  the  main  ocean;  the  waves  are  short, 
choppy  and  irregular.  We  were  driven  through  the  Bering 
Strait  and  a  hundred  miles  into  the  Arctic  before  the  storm 
abated;  we  then  took  the  back  track,  and,  that  night,  hove- 
to  in  the  lee  of  a  bluff  on  the  Siberian  coast.  Bright  and  early 
next  morning  we  passed  back  through  the  straits  and  finally 
arrived  again  at  Cape  York.  We  found  that  all  hands  had 
abandoned  the  vessel  we  left  in  distress,  and  she  had  been 
driven  about  by  the  ice,  but  strange  to  say,  was  uninjured. 

Just  before  we  got  there,  the  captain  and  some  of  his  men 
had  gone  aboard  again;  if  we  had  found  her  still  drifting  we 
would  have  had  a  rich  prize,  as  the  salvage  in  such  cases  is 
very  liberal. 

This  time  our  York  passengers  managed  to  get  off  without 
any  mishap.  We  then  steamed  on  down  the  coast  to  Port 
Clarence  Bay;  #s  the  ice  had  not  yet  gone  out,  we  were  landed 
on  the  "Spit,"  a  narrow,  fifteen-mile  stretch  of  sand,  sepa- 
rating Bering  Sea  from  the  Bay.  This  country  abounds  in 
"spits";  as  you  will  soon  hear,  one  of  them  came  very  nearly 
causing  my  death  by  starvation.  About  a  dozen  of  the 
Thrasher  party  remained,  camped  together  on  the  Spit,  for 
nearly  two  weeks;  when  the  ice  went  out  of  the  bay, 
four  of  us  crossed  over  to  the  old  Eeindeer  Station,  a  govern- 
ment building  put  up  some  years  ago  as  a  headquarters  for 
keepers  of  the  reindeer,  and  for  other  purposes.  My  mining 
partner  and  myself  were  persuaded  by  the  recorder  of  the 
mining  district  to  stop  over  here  for  a  time.  There  was  no 
particular  excitement,  but  we  liked  the  looks  of  the  country, 
and  subsequent  developments  proved  we  were  right  in  that 
respect.  After  we  had  camped  at  the  station  a  week  or  two, 


20  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

a  little  town  began  to  spring  up,  three  miles  above,  on  the  bay. 
The  projectors  of  the  tented  city  invited  us  up,  and  we  went, 
locating  a  couple  of  lots.  Dr.  Sheldon  Jackson,  the  govern- 
ment agent,  who  came  in  one  of  the  boats  about  this  time,  sug- 
gested that  the  new  town  be  called  Teller;  a  little  mass  meeting 
was  assembled  as  soon  as  we  took  this  suggestion  up,  and  the 
place  was  given  that  name — the  name  the  Reindeer  Station  had 
borne  on  the  maps.  "Wilson  Brothers"  were  just  erecting 
a  store  building,  up  to  that  time,  the  only  one  in  the  city  of 
tents.  The  members  of  the  firm  on  the  ground  were  Thomas 
G.  and  William  M.  Wilson;  I  mention  their  names,  as  they 
come  more  or  less  into  the  subsequent  parts  of  this  story. 
There  was  no  particular  life  in  this  little  mining  camp  of 
about  sixty  tents;  at  that  time  of  the  year  it  was  daylight 
substantially  all  night,  We  went  to  bed  at  any  hour,  and  got 
up  the  same  way,  just  as  our  fancy  dictated;  there  was  nothing 
to  do  except  to  watch  dog  fights,  and  do  a  little  fighting  our- 
selves with  swarms  of  tantalizing  mosquitoes  as  our  opponents. 
Like  Dickens'  celebrated  character,  we  were  "waiting  for 
something  to  turn  up, ' '  and,  so  far  as  the  writer  is  concerned, 
it  did.  I  went  out  on  a  trip  that  came  very,  very  nearly  cost- 
ing me  my  life,  and  the  equal  of  which  is  said  never  to  have 
occurred  in  Alaska,  the  country  where  hardships  and  pri- 
vation are  the  portion  of  every  man.  Before  starting  to  give 
a  detailed  description  of  my  journeying  for  sixty-seven  days, 
lost  and  without  food,  through  the  roughest,  wildest  mountains 
of  this  wild,  rough  country,  I  realize  that  words  can  not  begin 
to  describe  the  suffering  I  passed  through  from  the  time  I 
started,  to  the  22nd  day  of  September,  1900,  when  I  was  found 
dying. 

At  this  writing,  a  few  months  subsequent  to  the  time  I  was 
discovered,  I  am  still  an  invalid,  imprisoned,  as  it  might  be 
termed,  in  the  towm  of  Teller,  Alaska,  in  the  midst  of  the  worst 
winter  that  the  country  has  seen  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  if 
the  statements  of  the  Indians  and  some  ktold  timers" 
can  be  relied  upon.  I  further  realize  that  a  great  many 
people  in  "the  States"  will  not  believe  that  any  person  could 
have  gone  through  what  I  describe.  I  have  procured  the 
affidavits  of  government  officials  and  others  who  will  vouch 
for  the  truthfulness  of  all,  except  those  facts  that  are  known 


OR,   THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  21 

only  to  God  and  myself.  For  I  was  not  seen  by,  and  did  not 
see  a  human  being  or  bear  a  human  voice  (except  my  own) 
from  the  time  I  was  lost  until  I  was  found  dying.  These 
affidavits  will  be  found  at  the  end  of  this  book. 


BERING  SEA. 


By  W.  H.  Harrison. 

Oh,  Bering  Sea!  Oh,  Bering  Sea! 

What  fury  hath  awakened  thee ? 
To  lash  thy  sounding,  sullen  shore, 

And  with  hoarse,  tumultuous  roar 
Proclaim  thy  anger  long  and  loud? 

Art  thou  bellowing  to  the  cloud 
From  whence  the  cold  and  slanting  rain 

Is  driven  by  the  wind  amain .' 
Do  the  ships  that  at  anchor  ride 

Upon  thy  dark  and  swelling  tide, 
Until  chains  creak  and  anchors  drag. 

And  half-mast  floats  a  signal  flag- 
Do  they  annoy  and  harry  thee. 

Oh,  fitful,  tempestuous  sea  .' 
Or  is  this  sport  and  do  you  play 

With  sail  and  life  and  destiny? 
Do  you  kick  up  these  foam-flecked  waves 

In  wanton  fun,  and  laugh  at  graves, 
Unmarked  in  ooze  and  sea  weed  rank, 

Where  luckless  sailors,  clammy,  dank, 
"With  eyeless  eyes  that  need  no  light, 

Lie  and  rot — ^reird,  grisly  sight  ? 
Yet,  still  I  love  you,  Bering  Sea, 

Oh,  water — waste  of  mystery! 

I  love  you  in  calm,  peaceful  mood, 

When  by  the  zephyrs  you  are  wooed, 

When  sunlight  glints  your  pulse  beats  faint 
With  tints  that  mortals  could  not  paint: 

But  I  love  you  most  when  you  rage, 


22  STARVING  'ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

And  roar  and  surge,  and  when  you  wage 
The  battle  like  the  war  of  life; 

This  thrills  and  fills  my  soul  with  strife, 
Until  it  beats  its  prison  door 

As  the  waves  beat  a  rocky  shore. 
I  love  you,  oh  sea,  tempest  tossed; 

The  story  you  tell  and  is  lost 

By  the  winds  in  the  silent  hills 

Of  Nome,  is  always  one  that  thrills 
The  heart — a  tale  of  "hair-breadth  'scapes," 

Where  the  water  stretches,  yawns  and  gapes; 
' l  Of  moving  accidents  by  flood, 

The  imminent  deadly  breach,"  blood 
Incarnardining  world.     You  win 

Me,  Bering  Sea,  ere  you  begin, 
Without  "wit  or  words"  of  your  life, 
The  tale  that  won  the  Moor  a  wife. 
My  heart  is  thine,  I  bend  my  knee, 

Oh,  restless,  roaring,  raging  sea. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

LOST 

Little  did  I  think  when  I  retired  to  rest  in  my  tent  at  Teller, 
on  the  night  of  July  14,  1900,  that  on  the  following  day  I  would 
start  on  a  trip  that  would  change  me  from  a  physically  perfect 
man,  six  feet  one  inch  and  a  half  in  height,  weighing  a  shade 
over  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds,  to  a  living 
skeleton,  weighing  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds,  and 
all  within  the  space  of  sixty-seven  days. 

On  July  the  15th,  1900,  about  half -past  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  "Billy"  Wilson,  of  the  firm  of  Wilson  Brothers, 
storekeepers  at  the  tented  town  of  Teller,  opened  the  flap  of 
my  tent  and  said,  ' '  Come  down  to  the  store ;  there 's  some  busi- 
ness for  you. ' '  Being  an  attorney,  I  naturally  concluded  that 
there  were  some  legal  matters  to  attend  to  there.  At  that 
time  of  the  year  the  dark  part  of  the  day,  or  what  we  usually 


JAMES  A.  HALL  IN  ALASKAN  GARB 


OR,  THE   WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  25 

call  "night,"  was  of  very  short  duration.  I  had  gone  to  bed 
late,  and  as  a  consequence  woke  up  late.  At  the  time  he  ap- 
peared I  was  lying  in  bed  reading  a  magazine.  I  got  up. 
dressed  and  went  down  to  the  store.  He  informed  me  that  his 
brother  Tom,  who  was  out  in  front  of  the  store,  wanted  to 
speak  to  me.  I  went  out  and  saw  Tom  and  was  informed  that 
he  had  brought  two  men  up  from  Xome  on  a  gasoline  launch 
he  had  purchased  down  there  a  couple  of  days  before.  These 
men,  it  seems,  claimed  they  had  information,  derived  from  the 
deathbed  statement  of  some  old  friend  of  one  of  them  in 
Florida,  concerning  the  location  of  a  very  rich  quartz  prospect 
at  some  point  a  few  miles  back  in  the  mountains  north  of 
Teller.  It  was  asserted  that  this  man  was  one  of  the  first  party 
of  surveyors  sent  into  Alaska  by  the  United  States  govern- 
ment, many  years  ago.  He  had  discovered  this  rich  lode,  but 
had  no  opportunity  to  prospect  it.  He  had  kept  the  informa- 
tion to  himself,  hoping  at  some  time  to  come  out  and  locate  it. 
but  one  thing  or  another  detained  him  until  he  found  himself 
near  the  top  of  the  "Great  Divide"  that  we  must  all  cross, 
sooner  or  later.  He  then  communicated  the  information  to 
others,  and  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  one  of  these  two  men. 

Tom  Wilson,  on  his  way  up  from  Xome  on  the  launch,  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  send,  as  his  representative,  along  with 
these  men,  an  old  miner  who  was  clerking  in  his  store,  but 
when  he  arrived  at  Teller  he  found  the  old  gentleman  absent 
for  a  few  days.  He  and  his  brother  William  then  talked  the 
matter  over,  and  concluded  to  ask  me  to  go.  It  was  under- 
stood that  the  trip  would  not  take  over  three  or  four  days,  so 
I  consented.  We  were  to  start  at  noon,  and  this  gave  me  less 
than  an  hour  and  a  half  to  get  my  blankets  ready.  Wilson 
Brothers  told  me  to  come  down  to  the  store  and  get  what 
provisions  I  needed.  So  I  went  to  my  tent,  rolled  i\p  a  double 
and  single  blanket  in  some  canvas,  threw  a  big  plug  of  pipe 
smoking  tobacco,  a  good  sized  bunch  of  matches,  and  some 
other  small  things  into  a  United  States  haversack  I  had  pur- 
chased in  San  Francisco  for  such  emergencies.  With  my 
blankets  strapped  to  my  shoulders  (their  weight  was  about 
twenty-four  pounds),  my  haversack  leather  over  one  shoulder, 
and  a  granite  cup  and  sheath  knife  at  my  belt,  I  went  down  to 
the  store.  In  the  hurry,  I  forgot  to  put  in  a  compass  I  had  in 
the  tent. 


26  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

When  I  got  to  the  store,  Billy  Wilson  asked  me  what  pro- 
visions he  should  put  up.  * '  Oh, ' '  said  I,  ' '  put  in  some  bacon, 
some  crackers,  some  salt  and  some  coffee.  I  do  not  want  to 
take  much,  as  I  am  a  light  eater  and  too  soft  yet  to  carry  any 
more  load  than  I  can  help. ' '  He  stepped  over  to  where  the  bacon 
was  hanging,  and  putting  a  big  knife  up  on  the  "side"  said, 
"about  that  much!"  I  said,  "No,  Billy,  that  would  make  too 
much  of  a  load — about  half  that."  He  cut  it  as  indicated, 
about  three  pounds,  then  he  put  in  some  crackers  to  corre- 
spond, a  little  salt  and  a  half-pound  can  of  coffee.  This  is  all 
I  took  on  the  trip,  and  would  have  been  enough  for  the  time  I 
expected  to  be  gone. 

Promptly  at  noon  we  started,  Tom  Wilson  taking  us  in  the 
launch  down  the  bay  to  the  old  Eeindeer  Station  three  miles 
below.  From  here  we  "mushed"  (localism  for  tramped) 
over  the  tundra,  westerly  eight  miles,  to  a  stream  known 
as  Eureka  Creek. 

"Tundra,"  described  elsewhere  in  this  book,  is  the  decayed 
vegetation  of  ages,  covered  by  a  kind  of  moss,  and  thickly 
studded  with  pools  of  stagnant  water.  It  is  from  a  foot  tc 
three  feet  in  depth,  and  is  frequently  dotted  with  "nigger- 
heads  ' '.  As  a  walking  medium  it  is  of  course,  abominable. 

At  Eureka  Creek  we  turned  and  paralleled  the  stream 
northerly  until  late  in  the  evening,  when  we  camped  on  what 
is  called  Mystic  River.  When  camp  was  reached,  my  com- 
panions suggested  that  we  use  my  provisions  first,  as  theirs 
was  in  tablet  form  and  lighter  to  carry.  I  agreed,  so  we  had 
supper  and  breakfast  off  my  bacon,  and  they  had  some  fresh 
bread  which  we  used.  At  five  o  'clock  in  the  morning  we  were 
off  again  in  a  dense  fog.  We  traveled  at  a  rapid  gait  until 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  when  we  stopped  for  rest  and 
luncheon.  *  One  of  the  party  made  a  fire  and  they  dissolved 
some  of  their  tablets  in  hot  water,  which,  with  a  portion  of 
my  crackers,  made  a  fairly  good  meal.  We  laid  down  and 
slept  for  a  time  in  the  sun.  On  rolling  up  my  blankets  I  forg^ 
to  put  in  a  small  army  frying  pan  I  carried;  one  of  the  party 
offered  to  take  it,  so  late  that  evening  when  I  was  lost,  they 
had  the  only  cooking  utensil  I  carried. 

We  traveled  rapidly  the  rest  of  the  day,  they  with  chart  an'1 
compass  in  hand,  guiding  the  way.  About  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening  we  crossed  a  snow  glacier  that  had  not  even  yet  been. 


OH,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  27 

melted  by  the  summer  sun,  and  began  the  ascent  of  a  high,  slate- 
covered  mountain.  I  was  much  fatigued  when  we  came  to  this 
climb,  and  as  it  was  very  steep,  and  I  very  tired,  the  slate  rocks 
frequently  giving  way  under  my  feet  as  I  ascended,  sending 
me  crawfish-like  backward  quite  a  distance,  I  made  very  slow 
headway;  they  soon  got  some  ways  ahead  of  me.  When 
I  had  proceeded  about  two-thirds  up  the  mountain 
a  heavy  fog  struck  us.  They  were  very  nearly  up,  but 
I  noted  their  location,  and  finally  reached  the  top  just  at  the 
point  where  I  saw  them  disappear.  Fully  expecting  to  find 
them  waiting  for  me,  I  called  in  a  loud  voice,  but  received  no 
answer.  There  were  fifteen  or  twenty  acres  of  rough  table 
land  on  top.  I  went  directly  across  this,  thinking  perhaps 
they  had  gone  down  the  opposite  side.  In  the  darkness  I 
could  see  the  outlines  of  an  almost  perpendicular  cliff,  and  a 
steep  ravine  below  me  filled  with  a  glacier.  There  being  so 
many  other  directions  they  could  take  to  get  off  this  table 
mountain,  I  concluded  it  would  be  folly  to  attempt  to  follow  in 
the  darkness  and  heavy  fog,  so  I  unrolled  my  blankets,  took 
a  few  niouthfuls  to  eat,  and  went  to  bed.  I  did  not  feel 
frightened,  but  badly  disappointed  at  losing  them. 

The  fog  soon  turned  into  a  rain,  and  I  had  a  sample  of  what 
I  afterwards  got  for  weeks  in  succession.  Morning  finally 
came,  and  with  it  one  of  those  beautiful  Indian  summer  days 
that  sometimes  occur  here  at  that  time  of  the  year.  On  such 
a  day  the  distance  one  can  see,  especially  from  such  a  high 
elevation  as  this,  almost  surpasses  belief.  We  had  made  so 
many  turns  that  I  did  not  remember  the  points  of  the  compass. 
I  had  laid  my  bed  under  the  lee  of  a  small  cliff  a  little  over  the 
edge  of  the  mountain  so  as  to  protect  myself  as  much  as  possible 
from  the  wind  and  fog.  Getting  something  to  eat  and  rolling 
up  my  blankets  I  went  to  the  highest  part  of  the  plateau  to 
determine  what  I  would  do.  "When  I  reached  the  elevation 
I  could  very  plainly  see  what  I  took  to  be  Port  Clarence  Bay 
and  the  sand  spit  that  separates  it  from  Bering  Sea.  I  argued 
to  myself  that  there  was  no  use  trying  to  retrace  the  round- 
about trip  we  had  made  when  I  could  cut  across  and  get  home 
so  much  easier.  Oh,  fatal  mistake!  How  small  a  thing 
sometimes  changes  the  whole  current  of  our  lives.  This  one 
caused  me  indescribable  suffering,  loss  of  health  and  money, 
caused  my  family  and  friends  all  the  pangs  suffered  for  the 


28  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

death  of  a  loved  one,  and  left  me  a  skeleton  to  battle  with  the 
hardest  winter  Alaska  has  seen  in  many  years.  If  the  day 
had  been  foggy  or  even  an  ordinarily  clear  one,  I  would  not 
have  seen  this  distant  bay  and  spit,  and  would  have  tried  to 
retrace  my  steps,  or  at  the  worst  would  have  reached  some 
point  on  the  Bering  Sea,  in  a  day  or  so,  where  I  would  have 
found  plenty  of  natives,  and  been  perfectly  safe.  There  had 
not  been  over  three  such  days  during  the  summer,  and  that  I 
should  catch  this  one  just  at  this  time,  seems  almost  as  queer 
a  freak  of  the  wheel  of  fate,  as  my  rescue  nine  weeks  later, 
when  dying  from  starvation. 

I  stood  for  a  few  minutes  on  an  immense  boulder,  pondering 
over  the  matter,  and  finally  when  my  mind  was  made  up,  I 
tightened  my  pack  straps,  and  started  for  my  objective  point, 
which  was  a  high  bald  mountain,  apparently  near  the  shore  of 
this  bay.  It  seemed  very  near  like  a  mountain  I  had  seen  back 
of  Teller.  Down  I  went  over  rocks  and  small  glaciers,  where 
the  sun  never  struck,  until,  after  a  precipitous  trip  of  prob- 
ably a  mile,  I  came  to  the  bed  of  a  stream  of  considerable 
size  that  seemed  to  run  in  the  direction  I  wished  to  go.  I 
followed  this  stream  many  miles,  but  as  night  drew  nigh  I 
seemed  little  closer  to  my  landmark  than  when  I  started. 

On  the  way  down  this  little  river,  while  mushing  over  the 
tundra  alongside,  I  caught  a  young  bird.  It  was  the  only  one 
I  had  seen  during  the  day  and  was  some  company  to  me  as  I  sat 
on  the  bank  fondling  it.  The  temptation  to  kill  and  eat  it  was 
strong  within  me.  I  realized  that  my  food  was  almost  gone, 
and  that  even  if  I  could  reach  Teller  the  next  day,  I  would  be 
glad  enough  to  find  some  of  my  friends  at  dinner.  '  Still,  the 
poor  little  fellow  seemed,  like  myself,  lost,  and  as  I  had  not, 
up  to  this  time,  felt  the  pangs  of  hunger,  I  let  the  poor  thing 
go,  and  it  flew  off  with  a  chirp  that  seemed  to  say  "  Thank 
you." 

With  the  evening  came  another  heavy  fog,  and  I  found  a 
place  on  the  stream  where  there  were  some  dead  willows,  and 
camped.  I  made  a  fire  and  broiled  a  piece  of  bacon  on  the 
tines  of  a  fork  I  had  in  my  haversack;  this  was  the  last  meat 
I  ever  cooked  on  the  trip.  The  balance  of  the  small  piece 
of  bacon  I  had  left  I  ate  raw,  as  there  was  too  much  waste  in 
broiling  it  in  this  way.  The  portion  that  remained  of  this 
article  was  less  in  size  than  the  palm  of  my  hand.  I  had  four 


OR,   THE   WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  29 

or  five  crackers  and  some  salt.     There  was  probably  three- 
fourths  of  a  half-pound  can  of  coffee  left. 

I  awoke  early  next  morning,  and  rolling  up  my  wet  blankets, 
(it  had  rained  again  the  previous  night)  took  a  few  niouthfuls 
and  started.  A  half  mile  or  so  below  my  camp  the  creek 
turned  off  my  course,  so  I  was  obliged  to  cross  the  divides  over 
the  wet  and  miry  tundra. 

During  this  second  day  I  was  downhearted  most  of  the 
time.  I  could  see  my  distant  landmark,  but  could  not  see  the 
bay  or  spit. 

My  sheath  knife  was  an  eight-inch  surgeon's  amputating 
implement,  given  me  by  a  dear  medical  friend.  I  had  had  a 
fine  buckhorn  handle  put  on  before  I  -left  San  Francisco,  and 
the  blade  was  as  sharp  as  a  razor.  It  stood  me  in  good  stead 
many  a  time  during  the  trip,  but  was  a  sorry  looking  weapon; 
when  I  was  finally  found  the  point  was  broken  off,  the 
shaft  was  broken  and  an  old  willow  handle  • — the  sixth 
I  had  put  on  during  the  trip— had  taken  the  place  of  the  buck- 
horn.  At  one  place  where  I  stopped  to  rest,  I  took  my  little 
piece  of  bacon  from  my  haversack,  and  with  my  knife  drew 
fourteen  lines  across  the  rind  equal  distances  apart,  each  por- 
tion being  about  the  thickness  of  a  case  knife  blade.  I  made  up 
my  mind  to  take  one  of  these  morning  and  evening.  It  was 
merely  a  mouthful,  but  I  was  determined  to  make  my  supply  go 
as  far  as  possible. 

I  was  full  of  uncertainty;  at  times  I  was  sure  I  was  right, 
and  then  again  a  strong  feeling  that  I  was  wrong -would  take 
possession  of  me.  At  one  time  I  took  a  half  day  to  climb  a 
high  elevation,  that  I  might  see  the  bay  and  spit.  An 
idea  had  come  over  me  that  I  might  have  seen  a  mirage. 
"When  I  got  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  there  it  was,  in  dim 
outline  before  me,  but  apparently  still  a  long  way  off,  although 
I  had  then  been  traveling  four  days.  I  went  back  down  the 
mountain  to  where  I  had  left  my  blankets  and  camped  in  some 
><Tiib  willows  on  a  stream;  a  bite  of  bacon,  a  quarter  of  a 
cracker,  a  smoke  for  a  few  minutes,  and  I  was  ready  to  wrap  up 
in  my  blankets. 

This  was  about  the  routine  for  the  time  it  took  me  to  get 
out  of  the  mountains.  I  had  been  following  a  stream  nearly 
all  of  the  last  day.  Late  in  the  afternoon  of  this  day  I  had 
arrived  verv  nearlv  to  mv  landmark.  The  stream  I  was  on 


30  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

diverged,  and  I  concluded  to  cross  the  low  foothills  that 
seemed  directly  on  my  course.  I  turned  from  the  river,  and 
climbed  the  first  one;  being  now  quite  weak  from  want  of  food, 
it  was  a  hard  climb  for  me  to  get  up  this  brushy  ascent. 
When  I  did  get  to  the  top  my  heart  was  filled  with  joy.  The  sun 
was  just  setting  and  it  threw  long  streaks  of  golden  sheen 
across  the  water  that  appeared  to  be  very  close  by.  I  knew, 
from  hearsay,  that  there  was  a  large  lake  back  of  Teller, 
although  I  had  never  seen  it.  I  also  knew  that  between  Teller 
and  this  lake  there  was  a  sandy  elevation.  Here  they  were, 
two  or  three  miles  ahead  of  me,  as  plain  as  day.  I  was  happy. 
I  had  nothing  to  do  but  ' '  mush ' '  over  a  few  miles  of  swampy 
tundra  and  I  would  be  at  Teller.  I  was  tired  and  weak  from 
hunger  and,  furthermore,  I  felt  I  would  rather  go  in  early  next 
morning  and  surprise  them  all  asleep,  than  to  get  in  at  night 
and  be  joked  about  being  lost,  even  had  I  been  physically 
able  to  get  there.  I  wrapped  myself  in  my  blankets  and  lay 
down  to  sleep  on  a  dry  piece  of  tundra  I  found  on  top  of  the 
hill,  intending  to  rise  early  and  go  to  town.  It  was  the  first 
good  .night's  rest  I  had  had  since  I  was  lost.  There  was 
nothing  on  my  mind  to  worry  me,  as  there  had  been  for 
several  days  and  nights  past. 

Morning  came  none  too  soon  for  me;  with  a  cheerful  heart, 
I  rolled  up  my  blankets  in  that  neat,  compact  shape  that  a 
miner  and  "nrnsher"  soon  learns  in  this  country,  and  started. 
My  course  took  me  through  the  low,  boggy  tundra  bordering 
the  lake.  I  found  it  much  farther  to  this  lake  than  it  had 
seemed  from  the  hilltop,  and  I  sank  to  my  knees  at  every  step. 
Here  I  felt  my  first  thirst.  "While  in  the  mountains  I  had 
plenty  of  fine,  pure  snow  water  in  the  creeks,  but  while  there 
was  an  abundance  of  water  here  it  was  not  fit  to  drink.  No 
one  in  this  country  thinks  of  drinking  tundra  water  without 
first  boiling  it. 

Finally,  after  many  hours,  I  got  to  the  lake.  I  found  it  was 
fed  principally  by  a  mountain  stream,  and  seemed  reasonably 
clear  and  pure,  so  I  drank  several  cupfuls  of  it.  While  on  the 
border  of  the  lake  I  discovered  that  I  had  lost  my  sheath 
knife.  I  remembered  using  it  a  few  hundred  yards  back  to 
cut  some  tobacco,  so  I  retraced  my  steps  and  luckily  found  it. 
The  lak?  had  a  kind  of  low  wall  or  dyke  all  around  it,  except 
where  the  stream  entered.  It  looked  almost  as  though  it  had 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  31 

been  done  by  human  hands.  I  saw  a  great  many  of  these  after- 
ward, and  figured  out  to  my  own  satisfaction,  at  least,  the 
cause.  High  winds  prevail,  especially  at  certain  seasons  of 
the  year.  The  lake,  having  an  area  of  several  acres,  generates 
quite  heavy  swells  or  waves ;  this  would  pile  up  the  soft  dirt 
and  the  debris  until,  in  a  few  years,  a  heavy  dyke  would  be 
built  by  nature.  The  rapid  rise  and  fall  of  the  lake,  owing  to 
the  melting  snows  which  feed  the  rivers,  serve  to  keep  the 
banks  in  good  repair. 

After  resting  on  the  lake  shore  for  some  time,  I  again  shoul- 
dered my  pack  and  started  along  the  edge  of  the  water  toward 
the  elevation  now  only  about  half  a  mile  away,  and  from  which 
I  was  sure  I  could  see  Teller.  As  the  distance  decreased  the 
beating  of  my  heart  increased.  I  began  to  consider  what  it 
meant  to  me,  if  perchance,  I  should  be  wrong.  At  last  I 
arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  low  divide.  To  climb  to  the  top 
was  the  work  of  but  a  few  minutes.  AVith  eager  eyes  I 
scanned  the  landscape.  My  spirits  sank  as  I  realized  there 
was  nothing  but  a  barren  waste  before  me.  I  was  on  a  little 
sandy  hillock  and  the  front  of  it  was  covered  with  scrub 
willows  and  streaked  with  little  ravines  filled  with  compact 
snow,  which,  slowly  melting,  fed  a  small  lake  at  the  foot.  I 
was  in  despair,  but  I  had  one  hope  left.  Port  Clarence  Bay 
is  the  largest  of  a  chain  of  three  inland  seas,  Grantley  Harbor 
emptying  into  it  from  a  narrow  strait  formed  by  a  spit,  and 
being  itself  the  recipient  of  a  still  smaller  body  of  water, 
known  as  Great  Salt  Lake.  I  might  be  approaching  Great 
Salt  Lake  instead  of  Grantley  Harbor.  A  body  of  water 
several  miles  in  extent  lay  before  me;  now  the  next  question  in 
my  mind  was  whether  or  not  it  was  salty.  If  so,  1  still  had  a 
chance  to  be  right.  If  not,  I  had  been  following  a  will-o'-the- 
wisp,  and  had  come  to  some  big  fresh  water  lake.  I  could 
see,  from  where  I  stood,  that  the  nearer  bank  of  this  body 
of  water  curved  in  a  semi-circle  until  it  almost  touched  the 
spit  that  seemed  to  form  its  opposite  boundary,  and  which  I 
had  seen  from  afar.  A  heavy  lake-covered  tundra  lay  be- 
tween me  and  the  shore,  but  filling  with  ice  my  coffee  can, 
from  which  I  had  emptied  the  coffee  into  a  salt  sack,  I  started. 
Those  two  or  three  miles  were  as  bad  as  ten  on  the  creeks.  I 
sank  above  my  knees  at  every  step.  Exercise,  weakness  and 
the  heat  of  the  burning  sun,  made  me  very  thirsty.  There  was 


32  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

nothing  but  stagnant,  typhus  breeding  tundra  water  within 
reach;  this  I  did  not  dare  drink  without  boiling,  and  there 
was  no  wood.  To  make  matters  worse  there  were  mosquitoes 
by  the  million. 

After  several  hours  I  reached  the  shore.  Here  I  found 
plenty  of  drift  wood.  Going  down  to  the  water's  edge  I  dipped 
up  a  cupful.  It  was  salty.  Making  a  fire  from  the  drift  wood, 
I  melted  some  of  the  snow  found  under  the  bank,  and  satisfied 
my  thirst.  I  boiled  some  leaves  I  had  gathered  and  drank  the 
extract.  After  a  smoke,  I  threw  some  more  w^ood  on  the  fire, 
and  being  very  tired,  lay  down  and  slept  an  hour  or  so.  After 
this  rest,  I  started  down  the  shore  of  the  bay,  hoping  that 
when  I  reached  the  lower  end  of  the  body  of  water  I  would 
find  Port  Clarence  and  Teller  on  the  other  side  of  the  little 
divide  that  appeared  in  the  distance.  The  walking  along  the 
shore  was  comparatively  good  for  the  balance  of  the  day. 
There  is  little,  if  any,  tide  on  this  coast,  and  no  sandy  beach. 

Toward  evening  I  came  to  an  arm  of  the  bay  extending  a 
couple  of  miles  back  into  the  tundra.  This,  of  course,  I  had 
to  go  around.  I  decided  to  camp,  and  try  this  hard  trip  in 
the  early  morning.  The  sun  was  still  an  hour  or  so  high,  and 
the  mosquitoes  as  thick  as  the  hair  on  a  Malamoot  dog's  back. 
I  found  some  dry  tundra,  and  unrolling  my  blankets,  went  to 
bed.  I  was  unable  at  this  place  to  find  even  grass  roots  to 
eat.  I  searched  all  the  little  ponds  to  see  if  I  could  find  some 
frogs.  There  are  no  frogs  in  this  country.  I  dug  for  worms. 
There  are  no  worms  in  this  part  of  Alaska. 

This  was  on  July  23rd,  and  I  desire  to  digress,  with  the 
reader's  permission,  for  a  few  minutes.  A  most  startling 
instance  in  mental  telepathy  happened  in  connection  with  the 
following  day.  This  book,  as  before  said,  is  being  written  at 
Teller,  Alaska,  during  the  terrible  winter  of  1900-1.  In  the 
second  mail  to  reach  here  from  "the  States,"  after  navigation 
closed,  I 'received  a  long  letter  from  one  of  my  sisters,  Mrs. 
Adelia  H.  Taffinder,  of  San  Francisco.  My  relatives  had  all  be- 
lieved me  dead,  but  on  September  27th,  the  day  I  was  brought  in 
in  a  dying  condition,  I  had  caused  postals  to  be  sent  informing 
my  relatives  that  I  had  just  been  found  and  hoped  to  live. 
Xo  particulars  were  given.  Imagine  my  surprise  at  the  fol- 
lowing sentences  in  my  sister's  letter,  in  reply: 

"I  dreamed  not  long  ago  that  I  was  hunting  for  you  in  an 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  33 

unknown  land;  at  last  I  met  you  for  an  instant  only.  You 
looked  so  sad  and  troubled  and  did  not  speak,  but  handed  me 
a  piece  of  paper  with  only  these  words  written  thereon, 
'July  24th'.  I  do  not  know  what  happened  to  you  that  day 
unless  you  felt  utter  despair. ' ' 

Xext  morning  I  got  up  early,  and  following  the  winding  of 
this  inlet,  finally  got  around  to  the  bay  again.  I  rounded 
another,  much  shorter,  an  hour  or  so  afterward,  and  then  had 
comparatively  good  walking  until  the  early  part  of  the  after- 
noon when  I  came  to  a  wide  marsh,  covered  with  the  worst 
kind  of  tundra,  and  thickly  dotted  with  lakes.  Wading 
through  this  for  a  couple  of  hours,  sinking  nearly  to  the  top 
of  my  hip  boots  at  every  step,  and  finding  very  few  places  where 
I  could  even  stop  for  a  breathing  spell,  I  came  to  a  big  river. 
(I  have  since  learned  that  this  was  the  now  celebrated  Ser- 
pentine). Luckily  for  me  the  river  formed  a  delta,  there 
being  two  branches.  The  gravel  from  the  mountains  had 
washed  down  and  the  bed  was  comparatively  firm.  By  select- 
ing a  wide  place  I  was  able  to  cross  each  branch,  the  water 
coming  to  within  an  inch  or  so  of  the  top  of  my  hip  boots, 
except  in  one  place  where  a  little  water  ran  into  them,  but  as 
the  weather  was  then  warm  I  did  not  mind  this. 

After  crossing  this  stream  it  was  only  a  short  distance  to 
good  walking  on  the  bay  shore  again.  Besting  every  few  min- 
utes, I  kept  going  until  almost  dark.  As  I  walked  along  the 
edge  of  the  water,  I  saw  in  the  distance  something  that  appeared 
to  be  the  frame  of  a  small  building,  and  also  beheld  with  joy 
what  I  took  to  be  a  man  coming  in  my  direction.  Before  getting 
to  the  frame,  I  came  across  some  old  moss-covered  chips,  such 
as  would  be  made  by  sharpening  pickets.  As  I  drew 
near  what  I  had  thought,  in  the  uncertain  light  of  the  evening, 
to  be  a  man,  I  found  a  heavy  piece  of  drift  wood  set  in  the 
ground.  It  had  the  appearance  of  having  been  there  for 
years,  as  did  the  several  pieces  of  frame  work  I  had  taken  to 
be  the  ruins  of  a  native  eglow  or  house.  It  must  have  been 
something  used  by  whaling  vessels  in  years  agone. 

I  went  on  a  hundred  yards  or  so,  and  as  it  was  getting  dusk, 
and  I  was  very  tired,  even  with  the  numerous  and  long  rests 
I  had  taken,  I  concluded  to  camp.  I  threw  my  blanket  roll 
down  at  the  water's  edge  and  ascended  the  high  embankment 
to  see  what  could  be  seen.  This  was  done  hurriedly,  as  dark- 


34  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

ness  was  fast  approaching.  Going  a  hundred  yards  or  so  back 
from  the  bank  my  heart  almost  ceased  beating  at  the  sight. 
In  the  limited  horizon  I  could  see  an  ocean,  and  immediately 
before  me  was  another  bay.  Inland  and  in  the  edge  of  the  low 
foothills  I  could  distinguish  two  or  three  large  lakes,  such  as 
I  knew  were  not  anywhere  about  Teller.  Hope  was  now 
almost  gone.  I  returned  to  my  camping  place  and  sat  down 
upon  my  bedding,  saying  aloud,  "I  guess  the  jig's  up."  I  am 
not  given  to  using  slang,  and  know  not  why  I  did  then,  but 
the  words  will  ring  in  my  ears  to  my  dying  day.  I  was  now 
perfectly  convinced  that  I  was  at  the  Arctic  Ocean,  with- 
out food,  or  the  prospect  of  food — I  was  almost  a  living 
skeleton  even  then — and  knew,  if  it  was  the  Arctic,  I  must  be 
at  least  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Teller,  as  I  remembered 
it  on  the  maps. 

I  unrolled  my  blankets  and  lay  down,  but  not  to  sleep. 
Carefully  I  considered  what  was  best  to  be  done  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  great  question  in  my  mind  was  whether  to  attempt 
to  follow  the  shore  of  the  ocean  or  try  to  retrace  my  steps. 
From  the  hurried  view  I  got  on  the  hilltop  the  shore  looked 
barren  and  desolate  indeed.  I  realized  that  if  I  got  into  the 
mountains  again  I  could  have  pure  fresh  water,  and  plenty  of 
dead  willows  for  a  fire.  Besides  there  was  still  a  little  grass 
and  a  few  weeds  and  plants.  This  I  knew,  but  what  was  on 
the  shore  was  an  unknown  quantity  to  me. 

I  have  been  told  many  times  since  my  rescue  that  I  would 
probably  have  found  shell  fish  or  something  of  that  kind  on 
the  rocky  beach  of  the  ocean  when  I  got  to  it.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  I  carefully  weighed  every  point  for  and  against 
taking  to  the  coast,  well  knowing  that  my  life  probably  hung 
on  my  judgment  in  the  matter. 

Along  towards  morning  I  concluded  to  again  go  back  to 
the  knoll  where  I  was  the  evening  before,  and  if  a  clearer  view 
should  confirm  my  opinion  of  the  looks  of  the  shore,  attempt 
to  retrace  my  long  journey.  I  dropped  into  a  doze  and  upon 
awaking  found  that  the  usual  morning  fog  had  cleared  away, 
and  the  sun  was  shining  brightly. 

Boiling  up  my  blankets,  I  ran  my  arms  through  the  shoulder 
straps  and  climbed  the  bank  and  knoll.  In  the  clear  morning 
light  I  could  plainly  see  the  barren,  desolate  shore  of  the  grim 
old  Arctic.  It  appeared  even  worse  than  it  did  the  night 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  35 

before.  The  die  was  cast.  I  must  attempt  to  retrace  my 
tracks. 

I  concluded  that  instead  of  following  the  bay  shore  back,  I 
would  cut  across  the  tundra  to  the  place  where  I  came  off  the 
mountains  and  thus  avoid  the  long  "mush"  around  the  arms 
of  the  bay.  Taking  a  landmark  as  near  as  possible  in  line 
with  this  point,  I  started,  traveling  all  day  and  at  night 
camped,  or  rather  slept,  on  a  dry  piece  of  tundra.  I  well 
remembered  climbing  over  a  small  hillock  on  the  ocean  side  of 
which  there  was  some  brush  and  melting  snow,  with  a  lake 
at  the  bottom,  as  heretofore  described.  My  endeavor  was  to 
find  such  a  place.  I  found  a  dozen  that  answered  the  descrip- 
tion almost  perfectly,  but  could  not  find  the  right  one.  I  spent 
several  days  looking  for  it,  tramping  over  this  terrible  tundra. 

At  last  I  gave  it  up  in  despair,  and  concluded  to  try  to  get 
to  the  low  foot  hills,  and  parallel  the  high  mountain  range 
until  I  could,  if  possible,  get  my  bearings.  AYhi'le  on  the  marsh 
I  found  a  kind  of  rush  that  had  a  little  nutriment  in  it.  If  I 
caught  it  firmly  near  the  root  I  pulled  up  what  very  much  re- 
sembled a  young  onion  sprout.  The  outside  of  this  was  spongy 
and  absolutely  without  nourishment,  but  the  center,  the  young- 
est leaf  (if  that  is  the  proper  term,  botanically  speaking),  con- 
tained a  little  nutriment.  It  was  not  as  large  as  a  shingle  nail, 
but  by  collecting  a  great  number  of  them  they  helped  me 
some. 

On  this  wet  lowland,  and  in  fact  along  the  edge  of  the 
streams  in  the  mountains,  I  found  a  weed  that  in  childhood  I 
had  known  as  "sour  dock".'  It  has  two  elongated  leaves  and 
between  them  sends  up  a  stem  that  we  used  to  chew.  This 
stem  is  sour  to  the  taste  and  perhaps  has  a  little  nutriment 
in  it.  I  used  it  whenever  I  found  it.  I  had  never  tried  the 
root  of  this  plant,  and  one  evening  while  on  the  lowlands',  con- 
cluded I  would  try  to  cook  some  of  it.  It  is  yellowish  in  color 
and  has  quite  a  large  bulb.  It  softened  in  the  boiling  and 
before  I  tasted  it  I  thought  I  had  found  something  that  would 
serve  me  in  good  stead.  When  I  came  to  eat  it  I  found  it  as 
bitter  as  gall  and  a  few  minutes  afterwards  my  stomach 
ejected  it. 

After  an  exhausting  trip  of  a  day,  I  got  back  to  the  foot- 
hills once  more  and  started  in  to  parallel  the  higher  range. 
V]  >  to  this  time  I  had  never  been  able  to  see  a  clear  sunrise 


36  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

or  sunset  on  account  of  fogs  and  because  during  all  of  the 
first  week  I  was  down  in  the  ravines.  I  knew  approximately 
the  number  of  days  I  had  been  lost  and  could  therefore  tell 
very  nearly  what  day  of  the  month  -it  was.  I  also  knew,  of 
.course,  that  on  September  21st  the  sun  would  rise  due  east 
and  set  in  exactly  the  opposite  direction. 

After  being  in  the  low  hills  for  two  or  three  nights  I  finally 
got  a  clear  sunset  and  that  same  night  saw  the  north  star, 
the  evening  being  clear  and  cold.  As  soon  as  I  had  located 
the  points  of  the  compass  I  felt  a  little  more  hope.  I  knew 
that  going  south  would  take  me  to  the  Bering  Sea.  The 
trouble  was  that  I  found  myself  too  weak  to  scale  the  high 
mountains  ,that  were  to  the  south  of  me,  and  was  obliged  to 
continue  in  the  same  direction  I  was  going,  and  which  I  now 
knew  to  be  easterly,  hoping  that  I  would  find  some  low  place 
through  the  divide. 

About  this  'time  I  came  across  a  small  water  course  that 
did  not  contain  running  water  but  had  a  number  of  pools  in 
its  bed.  As  I  was  passing  one  of  these  I  saw  a  small  fish  dart 
in  under  the  tundra-covered  bank.  I  dropped  my  pack  and 
taking  off  my  sou '-wester  baled  the  hole  dry  after  an  hour 
or  so  of  work,  being  rewarded  by  the  possession  of  a  minnow 
the  length,  probably,  of  an  average  finger.  I  did  not  stop  to 
cook  it  but  ate  it  raw  in  two  bites.  In  this  same  little  creek 
I  caught  three  more  during  that  day  and  the  next,  all  about  the 
same  size.  After. this  for  two  or  three  days,  before  the  heavy 
rains  began,  I  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  these  dry  water 
courses.  I  would  even  go  out  of  my  way  for  miles  if  I  saw 
any  indication.  I  found  only  one  'more,  but  a  couple  of  hours 
before  I  reached  it  a  heavy  rain  began  and  as  soon  as  I 
came  across  a  likely  looking  hole  I  cached  my  blankets  under 
the  brush  and  worked  in  the  cold  storm  for  hours, 
baling  with  my  hat.  I  finally  got  it  dry  and  was  rewarded 
with  three  little  fish  somewhat  smaller  than  the  ones  I  got 
on  the  other  creek.  I  caught  two  more  a  day  or  so  after- 
wards in  a  manner  that  certainly  seemed  providential. 

The  latter  part  of  the  day  had  been  warm  but  the  evening 
was  cold.  I  conceived  the  idea  of  sleeping  in  the  rocky  bed 
of  the  creek  I  was  on  and  of  building  a  big  fire  on  the  rocks 
and  when  they  got  hot,  sweeping  them  off  and  making  my  bed. 
I  tried  it  and  made  a  dismal  failure;  the  rocks  were  too  hot 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  37 

to  be  comfortable  at  first  but  along  toward  morning  got  very 
cold.  I  had  always  heard  that  rocks  held  heat  for  a  long 
time,  but  I  do  not  believe  it  now.  Another  thing  that  kept 
me  very  uneasy  was  the  thought  that  perhaps  I  had  not  swept 
all  the  coals  out  of  the  crevices  and  would  set  my  blankets 
afire. 

Next  morning  I  arose  early  from  my  cold,  hard  bed,  and 
"mushed"  on  up  the  creek.  I  was  suffering  even  more  than 
usual  from  hunger  that  morning;  there  being  no  running  water 
in  the  course  and  the  tundra  coming  right  down  to  the  bank 
there  were  absolutely  no  weeds  or  grass  at  all.  I  had  gone 
about  half  a  mile  when  in  a  little  shallow  pool  I  discovered  two 
of  my  small  finny  friends.  It  was  only  necessary  to  stoop  down 
and  pick  them  up.  These,  nine  in  all,  completed  my  fish  diet, 
as  the  heavy  rains  became  almost  continuous  about  this  time, 
and  started  all  the  streams  running. 

I  desire  to  explain  the  reason  I  use  the  word  "mush"  so 
frequently.  While  the  word  is  a  localism  of  this  northern 
country  it  is  not  slang.  It  is  used  always  by  everybody  who  has 
been  here  any  length  of  time  and  is  very  expressive.  Travel- 
ing over  the  heavy,  soft  tundra  we  have  could  not  be 
as  well  described  by  any  other  word.  It  is  also  used  syn- 
onymously with  the  words  "get  out,"  especially  when  applied 
to  clogs  and  persons. 

They  tell  a  story  about  a  fellow  who  had  lived  in  this 
country  for  several  years.  He  went  out  to  "the  States"  a  year 
or  so  ago.  The  boat  getting  in  late  at  night  he  did  not 
land  until  morning.  Of  course  the  first  thing  he  did  was  to 
hunt  up  the  best  restaurant  he  could  find.  Most  Alaskans 
do  this  when  they  get  out.  He  went  in  and  sat  down;  not 
having  had  time  to  get  shaved  or  change  his  .  old  mining 
clothes,  he  fully  realized  that  he  had  very  much  the  appear- 
ance of  a  tramp.  A  neat  lady  waiter  came  to  his  side  and  said, 
'•Mush.  sir!".  He  got  .right  up  and  went  out,  leaving  the 
waitress  gazing  at  his  departing  figure,  speechless  and  full  of 
wonder  at  the  man's  actions. 

For  some  days  after  the  fish  episode  nothing  of  particular 
interest  happened.  It  would  generally  rain  hard  all  night 
and  clear  up  in  the  morning.  I  was  very  weak  and  emaciated 
and  could  rarely  "mush"  more  than  a  couple  of  miles  in  a 
day  and  could  never  go  to  sleep  before  four  or  five  o'clock 


38  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

in  the  morning;  if  it  was  still  raining  when  I  awoke  I  often 
lay  in  my  blankets  all  day  wittf  an  oil  coat  (known  here  as 
a  "slicker")  over  the  npper  part  of  my  body  and  the  piece 
of  canvas  in  which  I  wrapped  my  blankets  over  the  lower  por- 
tion. With  the  blanket  rope  I  would  tie  my  blankets  around  me 
when  I  went  to  bed,  and  thus  be  warmer  and  at  the  same  time 
keep  the  edges  of  the  blanket  from  getting  out  into  the  rain.  If 
it  was  not  raining  when  I  stopped  to  camp  1  always  made 
a  big  fire,  wood  and  water  being  two  things  that  were  always 
plentiful.  I  would  boil  some  water  in  the  half-pound  coffee 
can  and  drink  it,  thus  warming  myself,  it  being  almost  im- 
possible, as  any  old  "sour  dough"  will  tell  you,  to  keep  warm 
by  an  open  fire. 

I  counted  my  matches  over  and  over  again,  and  during  the 
last  two-thirds  of  my  trip  could  have  told  you  at  any  time 
how  many  matches  I  had.  I  remember  having  sixty-five 
left  the  day  I  was  found  dying.  In  attempting  to  make  a 
fire  once  after  a  heavy  rain  I  used  eight  matches  and  then  did 
not  succeed.  I  decided  not  to  try  further  and  got  into  my  wet 
b]ankets  very  cold  and  was  almost  frozen  all  night  long.  You  can 
hardly  imagine  how  much  the  wasting  of  these  eight  matches 
worried  me.  If  they  had  been  twenty  dollar  gold  pieces  and 
the  last  I  had  in  the, world,  I  assure  you  it  would  have  troubled 
me  less.  The  principal  reason  for  the  loss  of  matches  this 
time  was  the  absence  of  any  suitable  piece  of  ^wood  to  get 
shavings  from.  I  became  very  expert  in  making  fires  and 
rarely  used  more  than  one  or  two  matches,  even  after  a  heavy 
rain.  I  would  find  a  limb  of  dead,  barkless  willow  (willows 
were  the  only  wood  I  saw  on  the  trip)  and  taking  my  sheath 
knife,  trim  off  the  wet  outside  down  to  the  dry  part.  Then  I 
would  cut  some  shavings  from  this  stick  after  which  I  took 
the  smallest  branch  tips  to  be  found  on  a  dead  willow  (of  which 
there  were  always  plenty,  the  heavy  winds  that  prevail  playing 
sad  havoc  with  the  scrub  Yvdllows  that  line  the  stream  banks), 
then  I  would  put  on  larger  and  larger  tips  until  finally  the  pile 
would  burn  easily.  I  was  always  in  great  fear  that  my 
matches  would  get  wet.  In  order  to  guard  against  this,  I 
left  them  in  the  paper  in  which  they  were  bought;  around 
this  I  kept  a  piece  of  oil  paper  in  which  most  Alaskan  goods 
are  packed  for  import.  This  in  turn  was  surrounded  with 
a  heavy  piece  of  cloth  and  the  whole  package  was  kept  in  a 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  39 

large  rubber  tobacco  pouch  I  had  in  my  pocket.  To  guard 
against  the  setting  on  fire  of  the  whole  bunch,  in  breaking  off 
one,  I  separated  it  into  several  parts.  I  knew  that  the  loss  of 
my  matches  was  sure,  death  to  me  and  I  guarded  them  as  I 
did  my  life.  My  blankets  were  nearly  always  wet  until  I  dried 
them  at  bedtime,  and  the  hot  water  to  keep  me  warm  was 
indispensable. 

Seeing  no  low  places  in  the  rough  mountains  to  the  south 
of  me  I  kept  on  easterly  at  my  snail-like  gait.  After  about 
three  weeks,  during  which  time  the  weather  grew  worse  and 
worse,  I  saw,  a  few  miles  ahead  of  me,  a  high  mountain  which 
looked  quite  accessible,  and  from  which  I  thought  I  might  be 
able  to  better  determine  what  I  should  do.  Toward  evening  on 
the  third  day  after  this  I  arrived  at  the  top.  The  mountain 
itself  was  quite  high,  but  on  the  side  I  went  up  the  ascent  was 
so  gradual  that  by  taking  a  rest  every  few  feet  I  got  to  the 
top  without  much  difficulty,  where  there  was  a  rectangular 
ledge  of  rocks  four  or  five  acres  in  extent  and  of  an  almost 
uniform  height  of  perhaps  twenty-five  feet.  On  the  westerly 
end  of  this  rocky  crown  was  an  old,  partially  tumbled-down 
stone  house.  It  must  have  been  the  work  of  natives  in  former 
years.  Before  examining  this  I  eagerly  surveyed  the  sur- 
rounding country.  My  heart  rose  within  me  as  I  beheld  in 
the  south  a  low  pass  through  the  mountains.  While  the  ele- 
vation of  this  pass  appeared  even  higher  than  the  one  I  was 
on,  still  it  was  much  lower  than  the  rough,  steep  mountains 
on  either  side  of  it.  After  all  I  was  afraid  that  I  would  not 
be  able  to  scale  even  these  lower  mountains  in  my  then 
physical  condition,  still  having  in  mind  the  plan  of  follow- 
ing the  Arctic  shore.  After  calm  deliberation  and  observation 
of  perhaps  half  an  hour,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  I 
would  try  to  reach  another  and  still  higher  elevation  about 
ten  miles  easterly.  I  favored  the  mountain  route,  but  realized 
what  a  mistake  would  cost  me.  I  could  see  a  glacier  on  the 
side  of  this  distant  elevation  and  running  down  from  it  was 
apparently  quite  a  large  stream.  Beneath  the  crown  of  this 
distant  mountain  top  was  the  head  of  the  largest  and  widest 
valley  I  had  seen  on  the  whole  trip.  There  seemed  to  be  a 
gradual  slope  of  about  .five  miles  with  very  high  precipitous 
mountains  on  either  side  of  the  little  river  that  flowed  down 
this  valley  and  finally  emptied,  some  miles  below,  into  the 


40  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

stream  that  ran  easterly  past  the  mountain  I  was  then  on.  It 
appeared  to  me  that  it  would  not  be  a  very  hard  trip  down 
the  latter  stream  and  up  the  very  gradual  ascent  of  the  former. 
It  turned  out  to  be  the  worst  ten  miles  of  my  whole  trip,  not 
on  account  of  the  "mushing,"  for  that  was  comparatively 
good,  but  because  of  the  weather  and  other  things.  I  was  ten 
days  making  this  ten  miles. 

When  I  had  finished  my  observation  and  arrived  at  this 
conclusion,  I  went  back  to  the  easterly  end  of  the  cliff  where 
I  had  left  my  blankets.  .At  the  base  of  this  end  was  a  low, 
marshy  piece  of  ground.  It  seemed  to  me  there  should 
surely  be  worms  here.  In  California,  where  I  was  raised, 
there  would  have  been  thousands  of  angle  worms  in  such  a 
pl^ace.  I  took  my  case  knife  from  the  haversack  and  dug 
over  several  feet  of  ground  but  there  were  no  worms  of  any 
kind.  I  had  thought  of  camping  at  this  spot  and  getting  some 
protection  from  the  lee  side  of  the  cliff,  if  it  rained,  but  there 
being  no  pure  water  and  no  wood,  I  decided  to  go  down  the 
mountain  side  to  the  stream  heretofore  spoken  of.  The  way 
down  was  marshy  and  covered  with  scrub  willows  near  the 
foot. 

I  had  gotten  well  down  the  mountain  and  within,  probably, 
two  hundred  yards  of  the  stream  when  I  beheld  right  in  front 
of  me,  and  just  across  the  stream,  what  at  first  sight  I  took 
to  be  a  prospector's  horse.  I  stopped  short  and  said  aloud, 
"Thank  God,"  well  knowing  that  a  prospector  there  meant 
food  and  life  to  me.  A  moment  later  my  joy  was  turned  to 
dark  despair  when  on  closer  observation  I  saw  that  the  sup- 
posed horse  was  really  an  immense  brown  bear.  He  had 
evidently  not  seen  me.  The  reader  may  not  believe  me,  but 
as  God  is  my  judge,  I  coolly  deliberated  for  several  minutes 
whether  or  not  I  should  go  on  down  to  the  stream  and  if  the 
animal  attacked  me  give  him  battle  with  my  sharp  knife.  I 
was  starving  and  bear  steaks  would  have  been  much  more 
welcome  to  me  than  pure  gold;  on  the  other  hand  I  knew  I 
was  so  weak  I  could  hardly  stand,  let  alone  fight  a  bear,  which 
would  probably  kill  me  outright  or  wound  me  badly  and  leave 
me  for  dead.  I  had  become  desperate,  feeling  certain  that  I  was 
destined  to  die  of  starvation  and  reasoned  that  if  the  bear 
should  kill  me  it  would  be  a  much  easier  death  than  the  slow 
torture  of  starvation.  My  better  judgment  however  prevailed 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  41 

and  I  watched  the  bear  wander  slowly  down  the  stream  in  the 
very  direction  I  expected  to  go. 

I  made  a  big  fire,  drank  some  hot  water,  smoked  some  willow 
leaves  and  rolled  up  in  my  blankets  on  some  branches  I  laid 
.arn>s>  the  forked  boughs  of  a  willow  that  had  been  blown  down 
almost  flat  to  the  ground  by  the  wind.  I  frequently  had  an 
opportunity  to  get  a  comparatively  good  bed  in  this  way. 
Toward  midnight  the  rain  began  to  pour  'down  and  did  not 
cease  during  the  night  or  the  next  day.  T  did  not  get  out  of 
my  blankets  until  the  morning  of  the  second  day  after  I  saw 
the  bear.  I  then  "mushed"  down  to  the  stream,  and  the  day 
being  clear  and  cold,  attempted  to  make  a  fire.  Everything 
w,as  wet  and  the  proper  kind  of  wood  being  unavailable  I  did 
not  succeed.  AVeak  and  cold,  I  had  to  keep  moving  or  almost 
freeze.  A  half  mile  or  so  down  the  stream  I  found  the  ruins 
of  an  old  eglow;  it  had  been  made  by  sticking  willow  poles 
five  or  six  feet  in  length  into  the  ground  in  circular  form  and 
bringing  all  the  tops  of  the  poles  as  near  together  as  possible. 
Some  brush  had  then  been  thrown  over  these  and  this  in  turn 
covered  with  sod.  Time  had  partially  wrecked  this  shelter,  but 
by  cutting  a  little  fresh  sod  with  my  case  knife  and  putting 
it  on  I  succeeded  in  getting  considerable  protection  the  rest 
of  that  day  and  night.  I  also  managed  to  build  a  little  fire 
inside.  It  seemed  unusually  cold  that  night,  considering  the 
shelter  I  had,  but  when  I  got  up  next  morning  the  reason  was 
apparent.  It  had  snowed  heavily  during  the  night.  This 
must  have  been  as  early  as  the  middle  of  August.  It  did  not 
begin  to  snow  regularly  until  about  the  first  of  September. 

The  night  I  slept  in  this  old  eglow  I  thought  of  a  plan  by 
which  I  might  get  a  few  mouthfuls  to  eat  and  wondered  that 
the  idea  had  not  entered  my  mind  before.  I  had  noticed  at 
this  and  several  other  places  where  I  had  camped  in  the  brush 
that  the  little  birds  were  very  gentle  or  rather  had  great  curios- 
ity. They  would  sometimes  even  alight  on  my  blankets  before 
I  got  up  in  the  morning;  the  slicker  being  entirely  over  my 
head  they  could  not  tell  that  there  was  any  living  object 
under  the  blankets.  At  the  first  move  I  made,  however,  they 
were  off  like  a  shot.  I  imagined  that  I  might  be  able  to  kill 
some  of  them  with  rocks.  I  was  anxious  for  morning  to 
come  that  I  might  try  it.  My  mind  was  stronger  than  my 
body.  When  I  tried  the  experiment  I  found  I  had  not  force 


42  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

enough  to  kill  one  even  if  I  did  hit  it.  This  same  over-estima- 
tion of  my  strength  frequently  happened  in  regard  to  "mush- 
ing". I  would  -wake  up  in  the  morning  feeling,  before  I 
moved,  strong  enough  to  travel  several  miles  that  day.  When 
I  began  to  move  about,  however,  I  found  my  renewed  strength 
had  existed  in  my  mind  only. 

After  my  night  in  the  old  eglow  I  started  on  down  the 
stream  not  knowing  what  minute  I  would  run  against  Mr. 
Bruin,  and  to  tell  the  truth,  this  matter  was  not  bothering  me 
a  great  deal.  I  did  not  meet  him  again,  however,  but  saw  his 
tracks  once  more  on  this  stream,  and  once  on  another  stream 
several  miles  from  there.  As  I  hobbled  along  down  the  creek, 
a  cold  rain  set  in.  Finally  I  found  a  high,  perpendicular, 
rocky  cliff  near  the  river  bank.  In  the  rain  I  cut  with  my 
sheath  knife  as  many  small  poles  as  I  could  and  making  a 
' '  lean-to ' '  against  the  lee  side  of  the  rock,  covered  it  with 
tundra  sod.  I  succeeded  in  making  a  fire  under  cover  of 
this  shed.  At  this  place  on  the  creek,  nearly  in  front  of  my 
eglow,  I  found  a  small  quantity  of  the  rush  plant  which  I  had 
found  over  at  the  Arctic.  I  noticed  at  my  last  camping 
place  there  was  some  bird,  undoubtedly  of  'the  snipe 
species,  that  followed  along  the  stream  at  night  and  turned  the 
smaller  rocks  over  with  its  bill,  seeking  grubs  or  some  kind 
of  water  bugs.  I  never  saw  any  of  them,  but  could  hear  them 
plainly  and  conceived  the  idea  of  making  a  trap  to  catch 
them.  I  spent  most  of  the  following  day  cutting  the 
straightest  willows  I  could  find.  At  last  I  got  the  trap  made, 
including  the  figure  four  trigger  so  often  used  in  "the  States". 
I  had  no  bait,  but  in  searching  my  pockets  found  a  piece  of 
red  flannel.  I  set  the  trap  and  placed  thereon  a  rock  for 
weight.  Tired  and  famished,  I  struggled  back  to  my 
blankets  and  crawled  in,  anxious  for  morning  to  come  and 
with  it  the  bird  feast  I  anticipated.  I  arose  early  and  made 
my  way  down  to  my  trap  in  the  creek  bed.  When  I  reached 
the  bank  I  was  highly  elated  at  the  sight  before  me.  There 
was  my  trap  down  and  the  rock  still  on  top.  I  hurried  to  it. 
As  usual,  fate  was  against  me.  The  trap  was  empty.  I  sat 
down  on  the  bank  in  despair  at  my  disappointment. 

In  a  short  time  another  cold  rain  started  in.  I  went  back 
to  my  shack  and  tried  to  make  a  fire  but  could  not  do  it;  by 
this  time  the  rain  had  soaked  through  the  sod  and  my  "lean- 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  43 

to"  was  leaking  like  a  sieve.  My  blankets,  yet  unrolled,  were 
getting  quite  wet.  This  was  one  of  my  darkest  hours.  I 
realized  that  if  I  stayed  there  without  being  able  to  drink  any 
hot  water  to  warm  myself  I  would  get  pneumonia  or  perish 
from  exposure  and  I  felt  too  weak  to  mush  that  day.  I  pro- 
tected myself  as  well  as  I  could  and  shivered  in  the  rain. 
Finally  when  the  downpour  stopped  for  a  few  moments  I 
grabbed  my  blankets  and  hurriedly  packing  them  together 
some  way,  threw  them  over  my  shoulders  and  started  down 
the  stream.  I  was  in  the  habit  of  rolling  my  blankets  in  a 
neat,  compact  bundle,  not  for  the  looks,  but  to  make  them 
easier  to  carry.  There  is  a  great  knack  in  doing  up  blankets. 
Spreading  them  out  flat  with  about  a  foot  of  one  end  turned 
down,  fold  both  sides  to  the  middle;  then  tightly  roll  them, 
beginning  at  the  end  not  turned  down  and  upon  reaching  the 
turned  down  portion  of  the  blanket,  you  will  find  this  caplike 
end  will  fit  over  the  roll. 

I  staggered  along  for  a  few  hundred  yards  and  concluded 
to  cut  across  a  low  "  divide "  toward  my  objective  point.  I 
managed  to  get  across  this  hill  but  could  get  no  further.  I 
was  warmed  up  a  little  on  account  of  the  exercise,  although  it 
was  still  raining  and  sleeting.  I  got  into  some  brush  on  a 
little  stream  and  pulled  my  blankets  over  me  and  the  canvas 
and  slicker  over  them.  In  a  few  hours  it  cleared  and  began 
to  turn  warm.  In  the  morning  I  was  able  to  make  a  fire  and 
get  some  hot  water  and  could  also  dry  my  blankets. 

Weak'  from  my  experience  of  the  day  before  I  did  not  feel 
strong  enough  to  travel.  I  stayed  by  the  fire,  drank  hot  water, 
smoked  willow  leaves  and  passed  the  time  until  late  in  the 
afternoon,  then  moved  my  bed  to  a  more  comfortable  place  a 
few  feet  from  where  it  had  been  deposited  in  the  hurry  of 
the  night  before.  In  front  of  me  was  a  high,  tundra-covered 
hill  I  knew  I  must  scale  before  reaching  the  stream  that  would 
carry  me  to  my  elevated  destination.  I  lay  down  on  the  bed 
and  gazed,  in  the  gloaming,  at  the  hard  climb  before  me.  As 
you  will  shortly  see,  this  much  dreaded  hill  proved  a  lucky 
one  for  me. 

I  got  up  in  the  morning  and  tried  to  catch  some  of  the  small 
fish  swimming  in  the  creek.  I  used  a  little  net  that  I  had 
stayed  up  all  night  to  make,  about  a  week  before,  cutting  a 
off  the  end  of  my  canvas  and  unraveling  the  twine 


44  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

from  it.  I  tried  many  times,  but  never  caught  a  single  fish; 
it  was  too  diminutive  and  the  water  too  plentiful. 

One  day  early  in  August  I  was  crossing  over  a  high  divide 
and  ran  almost  over  a  ptarmigan  hen  with  four  little  chicks, 
evidently  hatched  a  day  or  two  before;  as  weak  as  I  was, 
I  managed  to  catch  the  four  little  ones.  Each  was  only  a 
mouthful  but  I  made  four  meals  of  them.  The  second  day 
after  this  I  found  one,  a  shade  larger,  of  which  I  made  a 
couple  of  mouthfuls.  The  ptarmigan  is  a  bird  about  the  size 
of  a  young  pullet,  and  in  fact,  looks  very  much  like  one.  It  is 
brown  in  summer,  but  the  color  changes  to  pure  white  in 
winter.  It  is  fully  as  good  eating  as  any  chicken;  in  truth 
I  think  it  is  better.  I  may  be  a  little  biased  in  its  favor,  be- 
cause, as  you  will  learn  hereafter,  it  indirectly  saved  my  life 
twice.  Nature  especially  protects  it,  for  as  winter  approaches 
feathers  come  out  on  its  legs  all  the  way  down,  but  in  the 
summer  they  are  like  those  of  any  ordinary  farm-yard 
chicken.  Their  white  color  prevents  their  being  seen  so  easily 
in  the  snow  by  animals  and  hunters.  Their  color  in  summer 
is  much  the  same  as  the  tundra;  some  of  the  other  animals 
also  change  color  in  the  same  way. 

Well,  about  ten  o'clock  I  shouldered  my  blankets  and 
started  over  the  divide.  By  resting  every  ten  feet  or  so,  I 
finally  climbed  about  two-thirds  of  the  way  up  this  tundra- 
covered  mountain  when,  at  my  feet,  I  beheld  what  I  took  to 
be  a  beautiful  red  flower.  I  was  pleased  and  surprised  to 
find  this  so  late  in  the  season,  and  stooped  over  to  pluck  it. 
Imagine  my  astonishment  to  find  that  it  was  a  berry.  I 
dropped  my  pack  from  my  back  saying  aloud,  "Thank  God; 
if  I  can  find  enough  of  these  they  may  pull  me  through";  I 
began  to  hunt  for  more,  only  finding  a  few  at  this  spot  but  in  a 
little  wet  hollow  running  down  the  side  of  the  hill  fifty  yards 
away,  I  got  thousands  of  them;  in  fact  the  ground  was  yellow 
with  them.  I  crawled  about  on  my  hands  and  knees  and  ate 
until  I  was  full.  I  have  since  learned  that  these  are  called 
salmon  berries;  they  are  red  when  ripe  and  yellow  when 
over-ripe.  It  was  so  late  in  the  season  that  all  I  found  were 
yellow  except  on  some  high,  dry  spots.  They  are  nearly  all 
water  and  seeds  and  contain  very  little  nourishment.  After 
eating  all  I  could  I  filled  the  coffee  can  and  went  back  to  my 
camp  of  the  night  before.  I  boiled  those  in  the  can  in  their 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  45 

own  juice;  there  is  enough  sugar  in  them  to  make  them 
palatable.  I  thought  I  could  keep  this  jelly  to  eat  if  I  found 
no  more  berries  but  got  so  hungry,  however,  during  the  night 
that  I  ate  it  all  up,  knowing  I  could  refill  the  can  in  the 
morning. 

Xext  day  I  felt  a  little  stronger  and  started  out  early, 
because  I  knew  I  would  spend  a  couple  of  hours  after  berries. 
This  time  I  began  at  the  foot  of  the  little  hollow  and  worked 
up,  making  another  discovery  right  at  the  start.  I  saw  a 
number  of  little  reddish  colored  plants  growing  out  of  the 
tundra  and  on  them  I  found  a  small  berry,  bluish  in  color, 
when  ripe.  I  have  learned  that  these  are  called  blueberries: 
in  flavor  they  very  much  resemble  our  currant.  The  blue- 
berry bush  does  not  come  more  than  from  six  to  ten  inches 
above  the  sod  and  the  salmonberry  does  not  grow  on  a  bush 
at  all,  but  comes  right  up  out  of  the  ground  on  a  little  stem. 
I  may  have  walked  over  some  of  these  berries  bel'ore  and  not 
noticed  them,  as  I  had  always  been  used  to  seeing  berries  grow 
on  taller  bushes  and  plants.  I  did  not  pay  much  attention 
to  the  blueberry  then,  as  it  was  much  more  scarce  and  harder 
to  pick  than  the  other.  I  hated  to  leave  the  spot,  but  when  I 
had  eaten  all  I  could  and  refilled  my  can,  I  concluded  to  go 
on,  having  been  so  much  delayed  in  the  past  few  days  and 
everything  indicated  the  approach  of  winter.  On  the  top  of 
the  divide  I  walked  over  a  few  salmon  berries,  but  I  assure 
you  I  never  stepped  on  them  when  I  could  help  it;  I  was  so  glad 
to  find  them  that  it  seemed  to  me,  in  my  then  frame  of  mind, 
almost  sinful  to  crush  them  with  my  feet.  On  the  other  slope 
of  the  mountain  I  found  even  more  than  on  the  westerly  side. 
The  ptarmigan  seemed  to  know  a  good  thing  when  they  sa^ 
it  because  here  they  were  thick;  I  never  wanted  a  gun  so 
badly  in  my  life. 

AVhen  well  down  on  the  easterly  side  I  stopped  to  rest  and 
make  up  my  mind  what  to  do.  A  startling  panorama  was 
before  me;  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  lay  the  widest  valley 
I  had  seen  in  my  whole  trip,  being  probably  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  in  width.  Heretofore,  most  of  the  mountains  formed  an 
acute  angle  at  their  bases;  the  lower  part  of  this  mountain  was 
covered  with  a  dense  thicket  of  dwarf  willows.  Directly  in 
front  of  me  was  an  immense  glacier,  acres  in  extent  and  of 
the  width  of  the  valley.  A  big,  wide  stream  of  water  ran 


46  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

through  a  natural  tunnel  cut  in  the  ice  and  fed  by  this  glacier 
and  others  like  it  which  I  could  see  further  up  the  valley;  this 
was  the  slope  that  was  to  lead  me,  by  gradual  ascent,  to  the 
elevation  I  spoke  of  some  pages  back.     I  concluded  to  camp 
before  reaching  the  bottom  because  I  wanted  to  be  near  the 
berries  without  too-  much  of  a  climb,  so  finding  a  place  where 
dead  willows  were  thick  I  took  off  my  blankets  and  made  a  big 
fire,  then  emptying  my  berries  out  of  the  coffee  can  into  my 
hat,  went  down  to  the  stream  for  water;  about  the  first  thing 
I  came  across  at  the  creek  was  fresh  bear  tracks — undoubtedly 
my  friend  of  a  few  days  before.     He  did  not  make  his  appear- 
ance again,  however,  but  from  the  freshness  of  the  sign  I  am 
satisfied  he  was  in  the  thicket  somewhere. 

I  came  back  to  where  my  fire  was  burning,  boiled  some 
salmon  berries,  dried  my  blankets  and  made  my  bed  on  one 
of  the  horizontal  willow  forks  heretofore  described.  I  had 
become  an  expert  weather  prophet  and  had  in  my  mind  pre- 
dicted rain  that  night.  It  soon  began  to  pour  down  and  kept 
it  up  continuously  until  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day; 
when  it  stopped  I  got  out  of  my  wet  blankets  and 
went  up  on  the  hillside  after  some  berries;  I  found 
that  the  heavy  rain  had  almost  ruined  them  but 
picked  enough  to  fill  my  can  and  a  few  to  eat. 
The  grass  and  bushes  were  dripping  with  water  and  not 
being  able  to  make  a  fire  I  was  very  cold.  Before  I  got  back 
to  my  blankets  it  began  to  rain  again  and  did  not  stop  until 
the  next  morning.  I  went  to  bed  at  once  but  not  to  sleep. 
How  the  rain  did  pour  down  during  the  night!  It  was  frigid 
and  I  almost  froze  in  my  blankets.  Toward  morning  the  rain 
stopped  a  little  and  I  concluded  that  the  best  thing  I  could 
do,  not  being  able  to  build  a  fire,  was  to  "mush"  along  as 
fast  as  I  could  and  try  to  get  some  animal  heat  into  my  poor, 
cold  body.  Eating  a  few  berries,  I  rolled  my  blankets  and 
started.  Getting  around  the  big  glacier  I  found  the  most 
interesting  creek  I  had  been  on  during  the  trip.  On  either 
side  of  me  were  rough,  rugged  mountains,  their  almost  perpen- 
dicular sides  forming  the  boundary  of  this  valley. 

Below  each  glacier,  along  the  banks  of  the  stream,  I  found 
a  substance  that  at  first  I  thought  was  good  to  eat,  but  I  got 
badly  fooled.  It  was  white  and  of  about  the  consistency  and 
appearance  of  soft  taffy  candy,  but  when  I  tasted  it  I  became 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  47 

satisfied  it  was  some  combination  of  linie,  and  therefore  not 
nutritious.  As  I  went  on  up  this  little  valley  cold  showers 
of  rain  frequently  impeded  my  progress.  Finally,  an  im- 
mense ledge  of  rock  came  into  view  near  the  center  of  the 
valley.  I  got  on  the  lee  side  of  this  until  the  showers  had 
.-topped  coming  so  frequently.  There  was  a  temptation  to 
camp  there,  but  I  could  not  find  any  dry  wood  to  make  a  fire 
and  my  blankets  being  very  wet  I  soon  "folded  my  tent  like 
the  Arabs  and  as  silently  stole  away. ' ' 

Late  that  evening  I  found  a  good  camping  place  with  plenty 
of  wood  and  still  having  a  few  of  the  salmon  berries  left, 
ate  them,  and  tied  myself  up  in  my  blankets.  The  weather 
had  cleared  but  as  usual  it  became  frosty.  I  woke  up  during 
the  night  and  found  myself  groaning  with  the  cold;  next  day 
I  was  too  weak  to  travel,  although  the  weather  was  beautiful 
—clear,  bright  and  cold.  After  resting  up  a  day  I  felt 
a  little  stronger  and  succeeded  in  reaching  the  high  elevation 
mentioned  some  pages  back.  About  the  time  I  got  to  the 
top  a  heavy  driving  mist  began  to  come  in.  I  could  see 
nothing  and  hurried  to  the  lee  of  a  big  ledge  of  rocks  to  make 
my  bed.  I  found  I  was  not  yet  on  the  highest  part  of  the 
mountain,  but  concluded  to  wait  until  morning  where  I  was/ 
hoping  the  weather  would  clear.  I  awoke  early  but  it  was 
still  blowing  and  raining;  I  managed  to  roll  my  blankets  and 
carry  them  up  the  rocky  mountain  to  a  kind  of  cave  in  the 
cliff  of  rocks,  still  several  hundred  yards  from  the  top. 
Although  it  rained  hard  during  the  night,  I  slept  quite  snugly. 
In  the  morning  the  weather  cleared  a  little,  but  not  enough 
to  allow  me  to  get  a  view  of  my  surroundings.  There  was 
absolutely  no  plant  or  grass  of  any  kind  that  I  could  eat  on  this 
rocky  height.  The  water  up  here  was  only  such  as  is  con- 
tained in  the  tundra  pools  and  I  could  not  go  down  to  the 
creek  at  the  foot,  as  the  trip  back  would  be  more  than  I  could 
stand. 

While  sitting  under  the  projecting  and  protecting  end  of 
a  large  rock,  meditating,  I  spied  on  the  ground  near  me,  a  small 
snail  or  periwinkle;  to  fall  over  and  grab  it  was  the  work  of 
but  a  few  seconds.  Looking  around  I  found  a  few  more  in 
that  immediate  vicinity,  but  hobbling  over  to  a  low,  damp, 
rocky  swale  near  by,  I  found  hundreds  of  them.  I  dropped 
down  on  my  hand  and  knees  and  followed  up  this  damp  place 


48  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

cracking  periwinkles  with  my  teeth  as  I  would  hazelnuts,  and 
swallowing  the  tiny  morsel  therein  contained.  Although  the 
meat  in  the  shell  was  no  larger  than  a  quail  shot,  by  eating  a 
great  many  of  them,  I  felt  a  little  strengthened.  I  was  at  this 
place  four  days  before  the  fog  and  mist  cleared  sufficiently 
for  me  to  get  a  view.  I  hated  the  delay,  knowing  it  was  get- 
ting late  in  the  season  and  that  the  terrors  of  an  Arctic 
winter  would  soon  begin  in  earnest,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
was  all-important  that  I  should  acquire  the  information  I  could 
only  get  here. 

The  fourth  morning  broke  clear  and  bright;  leaving  my 
blankets  where  they  were,  I  ascended  the  balance  of  the  climb 
to  the  mountain  top.  Sure  enough,  I  could  see  the  low  place 
through  the  mountains  distinctly,  and  the  desolate  looking  Arc- 
tic Ocean  in  the  near  distance,  a  marshy  lake-covered  tundra, 
miles  in  extent,  lying  between  it  and  me.  The  pass  through 
the  mountains  to  the  south  looked  better;  it  had  the  appear- 
ance of  low  hills  and  far,  far  in  the  distance  I  could  see,  appar- 
ently near  the  end  of  this  mountain  pass,  two  tall  peaks,  almost 
exactly  alike  in  appearance.  My  mind  was  at  once  made  up. 
I  would  head  for  those  twins.  Returning  to  camp  I  ate  a  few 
snails  and  started.  I  noticed  one  peculiarity  about  these 
snails;  one  hour  there  would  be  an  abundance,  the  next  there 
would  not  be  one  in  sight.  I  suppose  this  must  have  been 
on  account  of  the  changes  in  the  temperature;  I  can  think  of 
no  other  reason. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

STRUGGLING  HOMEWARD. 

I  could  see  from  my  position  that  it  would  be  necessary  for 
me  to  go  toward  the  southwest  for  awhile,  although  the  pass  lay 
directly  to  the  south  of  me.  There  were  a  couple  of  high,  bald 
mountains  directly  in  the  way. 

The  wind  and  sleet  had  come  again,  but  not  heavily  as  yet, 
so  making  a  neat  roll  of  my  blankets,  I  started.  For  several 
miles  I  tramped  over  the  worst  of  upland  tundra.  It  was  a 
rocky,  wet  plateau  immediately  overlooking  the  glacier  valley 
up  which  I  had  come.  I  could,  if  I  had  had  my  usual  strength, 


OR,  THE.  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  49 

have-  thrown  a  rock  down  the  perpendicular  side  to  the  stream 
on  which  I  had  camped  several  times. 

As  the  time  passed  on,  the  cold  easterly  wind  blew  the 
sleet  in  cutting  gusts;  I  was  wet  and  shivering  with  cold. 
The  top  of  this  mountain  was  very  rocky;  indeed,  at  places 
there  were  immense  cliffs.  During  one  of  the  worst  showers 
I  got  in  between  two  enormous  boulders  to  protect  myself.  I 
was  sitting  there,  damp,  disheartened  and  full  of  meditation, 
when  a  moving  object  passed  before  my  retina  and  I  was  con- 
scious of  sqme  animal  before  me.  I  did  not  realize  its  size 
at  first,  but  when  I  got  a  good  look  at  it,  I  saw  it  was  a  large, 
black  fox.  AY  hen  I  first  saw  it,  it  was  coining  directly  toward 
my  rock,  in  a  dog  trot.  Presently  it  saw  me,  stopped  a 
moment,  threw  its  pretty  head  to  one  side,  and  made  a  semi- 
circle around  me.  Oh,  how  often  after  that  I  wished  that  it 
had  had  a  ptarmigan  or  other  bird  in  its  mouth!  I  am  sure 
it  would  have  dropped  it  from  fright. 

After  the  heavy  shower  was  over  I  mushed  along,  an  hour  r 
so  later  coming  to  the  largest  cliff  I  had  seen  on  the  mountain. 
Although  it  was  beginning  to  grow  dark  I  could  still  plainly  see 
my  starting  point.  In  this  huge  mass  of  rocks  I  found  the 
best  protected  sleeping  place  of  the  trip.  I  was  cold,  thirsty 
and  hungry;  there  was  no  running  water  and  no  wood.  With- 
out a  mouthful  of  anything,  I  get  into  my  blankets.  It  rained 
almost  incessantly,  but  not  a  drop  could  strike  me. .  As  usual, 
1  dreamed  of  food  all  night,  after  I  got  to  sleep.  This  is  one 
of  the  peculiarities  of  starvation.  My  every  thought,  almost, 
while  lying  awake  was  of  something  to  eat.  It  is  astonishing 
how  your  memory  will  run  back  clearly  and  distinctly  to  the 
minute  details  of  meals  you  had  years  before,  and  which  in 
your  normal  condition  you  had  entirely  forgotten.  You  will 
even  remember  what  position  you  occupied  at  the  table; 
whether  the  meat  was  well  done  or  rare,  and  which  dish  you 
liked  best.  For  weeks,  after  the  first  few  days,  it  is  safe 
to  say  I  never  had  a  dream  that  did  not  contain  a  meal.  I 
ate,  in  my  imagination,  all  varieties  of  meals  from  the  finest 
French  dinner  to.  the  most  humble  "kow-kow"  I  ever  had  in 
Alaska.  I  .would  see  great  stacks  of  all  kinds  of  canned 
goods;  the  label  on  each  can  was  plain  to  me.  Meats  seemed 
to  predominate,  but  the  numerous  other  canned  stuffs  that  we 
have  in  this  countrv  were  much  in  evidence. 


50  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

During  my  trip  on  the  Thrasher  I  was  very  much  interested 
in  a  story  I  read  of  a  man  who  was  lost  in  the  Alps  and  who 
was  finally  rescued  by  some  monks  and  their  St.  Bernard 
dogs  from  a  monastery  in  the  wildest  and  roughest  part  of 
that  country.  Twice  during  my  terrible  trip  I  dreamed  I 
came  to  a  monastery,  where  I  was  well  fed  and  attended 
medically  and  when  I  recovered,  was  sent,  accompanied  by 
a  guide,  to  my  destination. 

The  odd  thing  about  these  dreams  was  that  I  seemed  to 
enjoy  the  meal  in  reality.  Unlike  Tantalus,  the  food  was 
always  within  my  reach;  many  a  nice,  thick,  juicy  beefsteak 
did  I  devour  in  my  sleeping  moments.  But,  oh,  the  awaken- 
ing was  awful!  I  seemed  to  feel  the  pangs  of  hunger  much 
more  than  if  I  had  never  had  the  dream. 

Next  morning  after  the  camp  on  the  mountain  top,  I 
crawled  out  of  my  little  cave  and  looked  about  for  snails.  I 
could  find  none,  although  I  was  not  more  than  a  mile  and  a 
half  from  where  I  had  found  many  of  them.  The  weather 
had  cleared,  but  was  still  threatening.  In  the  distance  I  could 
see  a  stream  running  past  the  foot  of  this  mountain.  There 
appeared  to  be  plenty  of  wood  on  it,  and  in  the  Alaskan  slang, 
4 'it  looked  good  to  me".  Slowly  I  climbed  over  the  rocky, 
wet  tundra  of  the  mountain  side,  resting  at  frequent  intervals. 
Near  the  bottom  were  a  number  of  scattered  scrub  willows. 
I  lay  down  by  one  of  these  to  rest  for  a  few  minutes.  While 
reclining  on  my  elbow  on  the  wet  ground,  my  slicker  protect- 
ing me  from  the  dampness,  I  saw  near  me  a  snail.  I  ardently 
seized  it,  ate  it  and  hunted  for  more.  I  found  quite  a  number. 
It  was  strange  I  should  find  them  in  this  unlikely  place  and  not 
on  the  top  of  the  divide  among  the  rocks.  After  eating  all  the 
snails  I  could  find  I  went  on  down  to  the  creek.  At  the  foot 
of  the  mountain,  on  the  bank  of  a  stream,  I  found  a  fine 
mineral  spring.  There  are  a  large  number  of  these  in  this 
part  of  Alaska  and  some  of  them  rival  the  most  noted  springs 
of  "the  States".  There  are  two  very  fine  ones  near  Teller. 

Leaving  the  spring  I  staggered  on  down  the  creek  through 
the  brush,  looking  for  a  good  camping  place.  I  was  always 
glad  to  follow  a  creek;  it  was  so  much  better  walking  than 
on  the  rough  tundra.  Unless  the  stream  is  too  large,  you 
can  nearly  always  take  advantage  of  the  gravel  bars  and  in 
some  places  the  walking  is  as  good  as  on  a  sidewalk.  I  finally 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  51 

found  a  place  with  plenty  of  dry  wood  and  dropped  my 
blankets.  The  wind  was  blowing  quite  briskly,  so  I  brought 
some  rocks  up  from  the  river  bed  and  made  a  wind-break  for 
the  fire,  to  the  lee  of  some  thick  brush.  I  tried  to  cook  some 
leaves  I  found  on  the  bank  of  the  stream  but  could  not  eat 
them. 

I  made  my  usual  bough  bed  and  after  a  smoke  of  willow 
leaves  went  to  my  couch.  It  rained  during  the  night  but  cleared 
in  the  morning.  I  arose  early  and  going  up  on  the  bank  among 
the  bushes,  found  a  few  snails.  I  could  not  make  a  fire 
so  rolled  up  my  blankets  and  started  on  down  the  stream  but 
was  not  able  to  go  more  than  half  a  mile. 

My  next  camp  was  about  a  third  of  the  way  up  a  divide  T 
had  to  cross  to  get  to  my  point  of  destination.  There  was  the 
usual  routine  at  this  place.  The  following  morning,  a  few 
hundred  feet  higher  up  on  the  hillside,  I  found  some  more 
snails  near  a  small  cliff.  I  made  the  best  "mush"  that  day 
I  had  made  during  the  latter  part  of  my  trip.  The  snails 
seemed  to  have  strengthened  me  somewhat.  Late  that  even- 
ing I  reached  a  likely  looking  stream  about  eight  feet  wide 
and  apparently  running  due  east,  past  the  low  place  in  the 
mountains  for  which  I  was  aiming.  I  came  to  a  halt  in  some 
thick  brush  on  the  bank  of  this  creek.  To  my  surprise  the 
morning  dawned  clear,  cold  and  sunny.  This  stream  was  full 
of  trout  of  all  sizes.  Oh,  how  they  used  to  annoy  me!  They 
would  sport  about  in  the  water,  seeming  to  know  that  I,  a 
poor  starving  mortal,  was  watching  them.  I  happened  to 
have  a  supply  of  white  thread  in  my  pocket.  I  took  a  piece 
of  this  about  twenty-eight  feet  long  and  twisting  and  rolling- 
it  together,  made  a  kind  of  a  fish  line.  I  had  nothing  to  make 
a  fish  hook  out  of  except  a  large  safety  pin.  I  bent  this  as 
nearly  in  shape  as  possible  and  cutting  a  little  rod,  tried  niy 
luck,  having  for  bait  the  same  piece  of  red  flannel  with  which 
I  had  tried  to  catch  the  birds  some  days  before.  Patiently  I 
waited  for  a  bite.  Carefully  I  slipped  up  to  the  foot  of  the 
ripples.  Not  a  bite  did  I  get.  Then  I  got  down  below  a 
small  waterfall  and  tried  to  build  a  rock  dam,  thinking  I  might 
catch  what  fish  there  were  in  the  enclosure.  I  managed  to 
get  a  few  rocks  together  but  found  that  in  my  feeble  con- 
dition it  would  take  me  a  week  to  finish  it  and  then  perhaps 
not  be  able  to  catch  a  fish. 


52  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

Next  morning  bright  and  early  I  started  down  this  com- 
paratively small  brook,  not  dreaming  I  was  destined  to  follow 
it  week  after  week  until  it  became  a  mighty  river  and  a  month 
later  be  found  dying  on  its  banks.  During  the  day  I  gathered 
a  small  cupful  of  blueberries  in  a  spot  on  the  stream,  but  they 
were  so  scarce  that  it  took  me  several  hours  to  get  even  so 
many.  By  the  time  I  finished  picking  them  it  was  dark,  but 
I  was  in  a  convenient  place  to  stop  for  the  night. 

My  next  camp  was  unimportant,  but  the  following  day  was 
a  serious  one  to  me.  I  felt  particularly  weak;  a  short 
time  after  I  had  started  one  of  those  cold,  snow-charged 
rains  that  I  dreaded  so  much  began;  I  could  find  no 
place  to  camp.  It  seemed  as  if  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
to  spread  my  blankets  in  the  cold,  drenching  rain,  without 
shelter.  The  little  river  had  made  a  complete  semi-circle 
around  a  high,  lone  mountain.  It  did  seem  to  me  I  should 
freeze  if  I  had  to  stop,  under  the  existing  conditions.  Finally 
I  came  to  some  brush,  just  where  the  river  took  a  segment 
off  the  circle  at  the  base  of  the  mountain,  but  it  was  still 
raining  nor  did  it  stop  for  a  single  minute,  so  I  kept  on. 
I  thought  I  saw  a  protecting  cave  in  the  mountain  side.  Trying 
it  I  found  that  it  was  too  shallow  and  was  in  slate  rock,  which 
being  wet,  was  as  dirty  as  if  covered  with  soot.  I  gave  this 
up  in  despair,  finally  seeking  the  wet  scrub  willows  on  the 
bank.  They  kept  very  little  rain  off;  in  fact  I  do  not  know 
but  their  constant  dripping  made  it  more  unpleasant.  I  slung 
my  blankets  off  my  back  in  a  hurry  and  throwing  them  down  on 
the  wet  ground,  crawled  into  them ;  I  had  no  time  to  cut  boughs 
this  night  and  was  very  much  afraid  that  in  my  weak  con- 
dition I  would  get  the  dread  pneumonia.  This  was  indeed 
another  of  my  darkest  hours,  but  as  the  dawn  succeeds  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  so  I  found  a  little  ray  of  light  next 
morning. 

It  had  stopped  raining  and  I  got  up  early,  and  leaving  my 
blankets  hurried  across  the  creek  to  where  I  could  see  a 
prospect  for  berries.  I  was  mistaken;  there  were  none,  but  I 
found  something  that  gave  me  great  comfort.  Within  ten 
yards  of  where  I  slept  there  were  the  tracks  of  two  men. 
evidently  made  about  two  weeks  before.  The  brush  they  had 
cut  was  not  dry  yet.  When  I  crossed  the  creek  I  found  then- 
dead  camp  fire.  Looking  around  I  saw  a  thick  piece  of  bacon 


OR,  THE   WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  53 

rind;  I  staggered  to  this  and  grabbing  it,  placed  it  to  my 
mouth,  then  hesitated.  I  had  been  about  receiving  hospitals 
a  great  deal  and  knew  the  danger  of  ptomaine  poisoning. 
This  bacon  was  partly  decayed  and  I  dared  not  eat  it.  A 
second  time  I  put  it  to  my  mouth  thinking  I  would  take  a  bite 
of  the  part  that  seemed  the  least  decayed.  Again  I  hesitated. 
If  I  desired  to  kill  myself  I  still  had  my  sharp  surgeon's  knife 
and  need  not  die  by  slow  poison,  a  death  of  terrible  suffering. 
The  thickness  of  the  rind  attracted  my  attention.  I  thought 
what  a  generous  fellow  the  cook  must  have  been.  "Well,  the 
result  was  I  did  not  eat  the  toothsome  morsel.  I  could  not 
find  anything  else  around  but  a  piece  of  baling  rope  that  after- 
wards stood  me  in  good  stead.  These  fellows  had  taken  what 
few  dead  willows  there  were,  so  I  could  not  make  a  fire.  I  saw 
nothing  to  do  but  "mush"  on,  and  this  I  did. 

As  I  went  along  I  found  that  the  two  men  had  gone  down 
the  stream  also;  in  fact  they  were  the  most  entertaining  com- 
pany I  had  all  the  rest  of  my  terrible  trip;  they  never  left 
the  stream.  The  reader  can  not  realize  how  much  company 
those  footprints  were  for  me.  I  knew  that  in  all  probability 
these  men  were  headed  for  civilization;  if  so,  I  was  on  the  right 
track.  For  the  next  couple  of  days  nothing  outside  the  regular, 
simple  routine  of  my  camp  life  occurred. 

Xear  noon,  on  the  third  day,  I  saw  I  was  approaching  the 
IQW  line  through  the  mountains.  I  came  very  nearly  turning 
off  in  the  same  direction  once  or  twice  before  I  arrived  there. 
I  then  found  the  pass  was  only  low  hills  and  I  came  to  a 
couple  of  big  forks  flowing  into  nay  stream  from  that  side. 
I  figured  that  such  large  streams  must  draw  from  an  extensive 
watershed  and  by  taking  one  of  these  branches  I  might  thus 
save  considerable  distance.  Fate  favored  me  this  time  and 
I  went  on  down  the  main  river.  If  I  had  turned  off,  weak  as 
I  was,  I  would  surely  have  perished.  When  I  finally  got  within 
a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  pass  I  could  see  that  either  this 
main  river  turned  almost  at  right  angles  and  ran  through  it 
or  a  stream  was  running  out  of  it  into  the  river  I  was  on. 
Notwithstanding  these  good  indications  I  could  follow  with  my 
eye  a  line  of  green  willows  for  miles  toward  the  Arctic  that 
seemed  to  be  a  continuation  of  those  along  the  bank  where 
I  was.  Imagine  my  joy  upon  reaching  the  all-important  spot- 
to  find  that  the  river  I  had  been  following  for  many  days. 


54  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

turned  almost  at  right  angles  and  ran  due  south,  through  this 
low  place  in  the  mountains,  the  very  direction  I  wanted  to  go. 
Another  large  stream,  coming  from  the  direction  of  the  Arctic, 
emptied  into  it  just  where  it  turned.  Hope,  which  at  this 
time  was  at  a  very  low  ebb,  began  to  revive.  I  soon  found, 
however,  that  traveling  on  this  now  wide,  rushing  body  of 
water  was  not  what  it  had  been;  up  to  the  last  few  miles  I 
could  cross  and  recross,  and  taking  advantage  of  the  gravel 
bars,  have  very  good  walking.  Now  for  several  hundred  yards 
on  either  side  of  the  river  there  was  a  low,  marshy  tundra 
into  which  I  would  sink  above  the  knees  at  every  step.  Some- 
times dense  groves  of  willows  lined  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  the  banks  and  these  generally  grew  out  of  pools  of  stagnant 
water.  I  found  really  better  " mushing'7  just  above  the  outer 
edge  of  this  marsh  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  but  even  this 
was  abominable. 

A  couple  of  miles  below  the  bend  of  the  river,  I  came  to  a 
point  where  it  had  cut  away  a  precipitous  side  of  the  mountain, 
leaving  an  almost  inaccessible  cliff.  I  was  in  a  dilemma.  I 
could  not  ford  the  stream  and,  skeleton  that  I  was,  did  not 
believe  I  could  scale  the  cliff,  yet  I  tried  it.  I  failed,  but  found 
several  acres  of  blueberries.  Being  the  westerly  slope,  rain 
and  heavy  winds  could  not  strike  it  so  well,  hence  they  were 
very  plentiful.  It  was  the  only  place  I  ever  found  these 
berries  in  their  prime;  there  were  a  few  green  ones.  I  kept 
these  and  ate  all  the  ripe  ones  I  could.  I  was  more  anxious 
for  the  green  ones  because  they  would  keep  and  not  mash  in 
my  pockets.  I  had  nothing  to  put  the  ripe  ones  in  but  the 
little  half-pound  coffee  can.  After  picking  what  berries  I 
could,  I  concluded  to  camp  and  try  the  cliff  in  the  morning 
^when  I  was  fresh.  It  was  impossible  to  find  a  good  place  to 
spread  my  blankets — the  low  land  was  so  wet  and  the  moun- 
tain side  so  steep.  I  finally  bent  some  willows  over  and  putting 
plenty  of  boughs  on  these,  managed  to  keep  out  of  the  water. 

During  the  night  the  usual  cold  rain  set  in  and  lasted  until 
about  nine  next  morning;  shortly  after  it  stopped  I  arose,  ate 
what  ripe  berries  I  had  in  the  can  and  rolled  up  my 
blankets.  Once  in  a  while  I  could  hear  a  big  fish  jump  out  of 
the  deep  water  after  a  fly,  so  I  resolved  to  try  my  school-boy  fish 
line,  which  I  still  had  with  me,  but  with  my  usual  success- 
nil.  Rolling  up  my  thread  and  safety  pin  hook  I  ran  my  arms 


OR,  THE>  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  55 

through  the  blanket  pack  straps  and  made  a  desperate  effort 
to  scale  the  cliff,  finally  succeeding.  On  top  'I  found  a  fresh 
supply  of  blueberries,  but  no  green  ones.  I  ate  a  few  more 
and  began  to  fill  the  can.  With  one  exception,  this  was  the 
last  I  ever  found. 

Within  the  next  day  or  so  winter  set  in  in  dead  earnest;  the 
high  mountains  and  even  the  low  hills  on  either  side  of  me, 
were  covered  with  snow  all  the  time.  In  the  daytime  the  cold 
wind  blowing  over  this  cut  right  through  iny  clothes.  My 
face  and  hands  almost  froze  as  I  had  little  blood  left  to  keep 
me  warm.  At  night  my  suffering  was  even  still  more  intense. 
This  reminds  me  of  a  story  that  a  friend  of  mine  from  Cal- 
ifornia, John  J.  0  'Leary,  tells. 

While  personally  I  do  not  feel  in  the  humor  for  joking, 
especially  over  a  matter  that  was  at  one  time  so  serious  to  me, 
still  I  realize  that  my  readers  may  enjoy  the  yarn.  It  seems 
that  a  man  who  had  been  in  Alaska  for  several  years  always 
expressed  a  desire  to  be  cremated;  he  froze  to  death  a  year  or 
so  ago.  His  friends  took  his  body  out  on  a  boat  to, one  of 
the  large  cities;  it  arrived  at  its  destination  and  was  taken 
directly  to  the  crematory  from  the  ship;  the  body  was  pre- 
pared and  placed  in  the  metallic  box  used  in  these  places.  The 
furnace  was  heated  to  that  terrific  heat  necessary  for  incin- 
eration; they  slid  the  box  in  and  left  it  for  several  hours.  At 
the  usual  time  they  opened  the  furnace  doors  expecting  to 
see  but  a  few  cups  of  ashes  left.  The  fellow  rose  up  in  the  box 
and  said,  "Shut  that  door.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  been 
comfortably  warm  since  I  started  to  Alaska  five  years  ago." 

Nothing  of  unusual  importance  happened  during  the  next 
few  days;  I  was  on  the  lookout  all  the  time  for  berries,  but 
it  was  too  late  in  the  season;  at  one  place  I  found  a  cupful  of 
them,  but  even  they  were  almost  decayed.  The  time  of  year 
had  arrived  when  there  was  absolutely  nothing  edible  grow- 
ing. What  few  plants  that  came  with  the  summer  sun  had 
gone  with  the  winter  blasts.  I  had  frequently  looked  for  more 
periwinkles  but  never  found  them.  Day  after  day  never  a 
morsel  of  anything  but  hot  water  passed  my  lips. 

One  day  I  came  to  a  place  where  the  river  ran  through  a 
deep  cut  in  the  mountains;  it  was  simply  impossible  to  travel 
along  the  cliff,  but  by  wading  along  the  edge  of  the  river  I 
could  just  get  by.  At  one  spot  where  there  was  a  little  turn  in 


56  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

the  stream  I  discovered  a  set  of  footprints  going  up  and  a  set 
coming  down.  T  wanted  to  see  if  these  were  made  by  two 
different  men,  or  the  same  man  ascending  the  river  and  then 
descending.  If  made  by  different  men  the  fellow  who  went 
up  might  be  coming  back  in  time  to  pick  me  up.  The  tracks 
looked  to  be  the  same  size  but  I  concluded  to  measure  them, 
and  reaching  over  to  the  bank  and  pulling  a  twig  from  a  bush, 
stooped  over  to  make  the  measurement.  I  found  them  the 
same  length  and  evidently  made  by  the  same  man.  I  rose 
slowly  and  just  as  I  stood  straight  everything  turned  black 
before  my  eyes.  I  heard,  but  did  not  feel,  a  dull  thud.  I  had 
fainted.  I  do  not  know  how  long  I  lay  there,  but  distinctly 
remember,  either  in  going  into  or  coming  out  of  the  faint, 
saying  aloud,  "My  God!  Is  this  death?"  I  had  been  expect- 
ing death  for  many  days  and  suppose  it  was  on  my  mind 
at  this  moment.  Slowly,  consciousness  came  back.  My  first 
rational  thought  was,  "I  am  lost";  then  everything  was  clear 
to  me  again.  When  I  examined  myself,  I  found  no  mud  on 
my  clothes,  but  quite  a  little  on  the  blankets.  I  had  evidently 
fallen  squarely  on  my  back.  I  found  a  piece  of  the  bush  that 
was  growing  on  the  bank,  in  my  hand.  Many  times  when  I 
had  stooped  over,  hunting  for  berries  or  plants,  I  had  felt  on 
the  verge  of  fainting,  but  found  if  I  raised  up  slowly,  the 
feeling  would  pass  away.  I  never  fainted  before  in  my  life, 
and  never  since. 

I  felt  no  ill  effect  from  the  fainting  spell  and  "mushed" 
along  slowly  down  the  stream.  I  tried  dozens  of  times  to 
cross  the  river  but  never  succeeded.  I  had  many  narrow 
escapes  from  falling  on  the  slippery  rocks..  I  would  probably 
have  drowned  if  I  had,  for  besides  being  so  weak,  I  had  my 
twenty-five  pound  pack  of  blankets  strapped  to  my  back.  The 
side  I  was  on  seemed  much  worse  for  "mushing"  than  the 
opposite  one. 

Finally,  late  in  the  afternoon  of  one  day  about  this  time, 
1  came  to  an  island  in  the  river  containing  several  acres;  the 
stream  adjacent  thereto  was  broad  and  apparently  shallower 
than  I  had  before  seen  it;  after  considerable  effort  I  managed 
to  cross  to  the  island;  here  I  rested  and  attempted  the  other 
branch.  It  was  too  deep  and  too  swift  for  me  to  cross.  I 
felt  very  tired  and  as  there  were  some  nice,  large  willows  on 
the  island,  concluded  to  camp.  While  I  was  making  a  fire 


OR,  THE   WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  57 

to  heat  some  water  it  began  to  rain.  Luckily  there  were  some 
large  clumps  of  willows  which  had  caught  a  great  deal  of 
driftwood  and  brush  at  high  water.  By  getting  to  the  lee  of 
one  of  these  I  had  pretty  good  protection.  I  hurriedly  cut  my 
boughs  for  a  bed  before  the  rain  had  wet  them  badly.  After 
sitting  around  the  fire  and  drinking  hot  water  for  a  time,  I 
got  into  my  blankets.  It  rained  all  night  and  when  morning 
came  I  found  the  river  had  risen  considerably  and  I  was '  a 
prisoner.  There  was  nothing  serious  about  this  except  the 
delay,  for  the  rain  had  stopped  and  the  weather  had  turned 
cold  again.  After  a  few  hours  I  was  able  to  re-cross  to  the 
mainland  but  there  was  trouble  ahead.  A  high  cliff  faced  the 
stream  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  It  took  me  all  the  rest  of 
the  day  to  go  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  In  getting  even  that 
far  I  had  to  crawl  along,  inch  by  inch,  over  the  immense  boul- 
ders, some  of  which  projected  several  feet  into  the  stream. 
The  crevices  and  open  places  between  the  rocks  were  filled 
with  a  dense  growth  of  brush,  making "  them  well  nigh  im- 
passable. I  had  a  very  bad  place  to  camp  that  night  but  for- 
tunately it  did  not  rain. 

Next  day  the  traveling  was  a  little  easier  and  along  toward 
evening  I  arrived  at  what  seemed  to  be  a  place  where  two 
men  had  camped  sometime  before.  The  double  set  of  tracks 
that  I  had  frequently  seen  on  gravel  bars  further  up  the 
stream  were  plain;  remains  of  a  dead  camp  fire  were  near  the 
bank.  My  heart  jumped  for  joy  when,  on  looking  into  the 
bushes  a  few  feet  away,  I  beheld  a  salmon  of  large  size.  I 
staggered  to  it  as  rapidly  as  my  legs  would  carry  me,  but 
horror!  it  was  rotten;  the  roe  and  maggots  ran  out  in  a  stream 
together.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  I  would  have  eaten  it 
with  a  relish,  except  for  the  reason  heretofore  given  in  the 
case  of  the  bacon  rind.  I  could  hardly  resist  taking  the  chance 
anyway.  After  I  was  rescued,  my  mining  partner,  formerly 
a  surgeon  at  the  San  Francisco  Eeceiving  Hospital,  informed 
me  that  ptomaine  poisoning  was  only  generated  at  the  tune 
the  decay  took  place,  but  not  after  it  was  completed. 

Eeluctantly  I  started  on  down  the  stream.  At  this  period  of 
my  trip  I  was  compelled  to  rest  every  few  feet.  While  sit- 
ting'resting  I  would  pick  out  some  object  a  little  way  ahead 
and  endeavor  to  reach  it  next  time,  without  stopping  before 
I  got  to  it. 


58  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

An  hour  or  so  later  I  arrived  at  what  seemed  to  be  a  general 
camping  place  for  all  the  "mashers"  who  had  passed  during 
the  season  and  found  nearly  a  dozen  dead  fires,  and  for  the 
first  time  found  a  camp  where  there  were  any  tin  cans;  here 
there  were  quite  a  number.  I  searched  each  one  thinking 
there  might  be  a  morsel  left.  I  finally  came  to  a  small  glass 
pickle  bottle.  "Thank  God!"  I  said,  "here  is  something  in 
this".  I  took  out  the  cork  which  was  loosely  in  the  neck  and 
tasted  the  liquid.  It  was  the  strongest  vinegar,  but  only  about 
a  wineglassful.  In  it  I  found  about  a  third  of  a  small  cucum- 
ber pickle  and  a  piece  of  cauliflower  about  the  size  of 
my  thumb  to  the  first  joint.  I  also  found  about  a  dozen  little 
black  peppers.  Gentle  reader,  you  do  not  know  how  I  en- 
joyed each  of  these  ingredients.  The  vinegar  was  just  what 
I  craved;  the  taste  of  the  pickle  was  like  nectar;  the  peppers 
warmed  up  my  stomach  and  I  could  taste  them  for  hours 
afterward.  You  can  hardly  imagine  how  the  labels  on  the 
cans  tantalized  me.  My  imagination  ran  wild  at  the  sight.  I 
concluded  to  be  fashionable  and  camp  here.  I  did  not  have 
to  cut  any  brush;  it  was  already  cut  and  dried. 

I  felt  elated  over  the  outlook.  It  assured  me  I  was  nearing 
civilization,  but  I  noticed  frequently  during  this  long  trip 
that  if  things  looked  bright  one  hour,  they  looked  correspond- 
ingly dark  the  next.  Shortly  after  I  went  to  bed  a  cold  rain 
set  in.  It  poured  all  night  long;  I  had  no  shelter  of  any 
kind;  in  fact  the  place  was  very  much  exposed  to  wind  and 
rain  and  it  surprised  me  that  so  many  campers  stopped  here. 
It  was  still  raining  when  I  woke  in  the  morning,  but  getting 
up  between  showers  I  started,  having  first  gathered  up 
nearly  all  the  best  cans  and  the  bottle  and  placed  them 
in  my  pack;  these  made  additional  weight  and  a  very 
unwieldy  package  to  carry.  I  was  determined,  however, 
if  I  found  any  more  berries  to  have  something  to  carry  them  in. 

A  few  hundred  yards  down  the  river  I  found  a  very  wide 
place  and  after  several  attempts  succeeded  in  crossing.  The 
cold  sleet  which  had  been  beating  me  in  the  face  from  the 
time  I  left  camp  was  now  pouring  down  and  becoming  unbear- 
able. Of  all  the  cold  and  exposure  I  had  had  on  this  awful  trip, 
this  was  the  worst.  I  began  to  feel  that  I  could  stand  it  no 
longer.  Still,  knowing  that  to  stop  was  almost  sure  death,  I 
kept  going.  I  finally  got  into  a  clump  of  willows  and  tried 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  59 

to  make  a  fire.  The  willows  were  dripping  with  water  and 
I  could  get  no  dry  tips  so  I  had  to  give  it  up  after  wasting- 
three  matches.  To  stop  was  to  freeze,  so  I  stumbled  along. 
This  was  another  of  my  darkest  hours.  I  came  to 
a  grove  of  quite  large  willows.  They  were  in  a  kind  of 
marsh  where  the  water  was  several  inches  deep,  but  finding  one 
that  the  wind  had  blown  over  I  put  some  boughs  across  the 
forks  as  heretofore  described.  In  desperation  I  got  into 
my  blankets.  I  could  not  sleep  for  many  hours  but  it  soon 
turned  a  little  warmer  and  stopped  raining  and  sleeting. 
Sleep  finally  came  and  when  I  awoke  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly;  it  was  morning;  bright  sunshine  was  something  I 
had  not  enjoyed  for  many  days.  I  took  my  things  out  to  a 
sand  bar  near  the  river  bank,  spread  my  blankets  on  some 
bushes  to  dry  and  made  a  fire.  After  eating  a  hearty  break- 
fast of  hot  water  and  imagination,  I  basked  in  the  sun,  and 
smoked  willow  leaves  for  an  hour  or  so.  I  would  probably 
have  rested  considerably  longer  if  1  had  not  seen  signs  of  an 
approaching  wind  or  rain  storm.  Experience  had  made  me 
quite  a  weather  prophet.  I  knew  that  if  I  desired  to  make 
any  headway  that  day  I  would  have  to  be  moving  along  in 
a  hurry;  besides,  I  was  anxious  to  find  a  more  protected  camp- 
ing place.  I  did  not  start  any  too  soon,  for  I  had  not  gone 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  one  of  those  cold,  sleet- 
ing rains  began;  it  was  not  quite  so  bad  as  the  one  of  the  pre- 
vious day,  but  was  very  weakening  to  me. 

After  a  time  I  (tone  to  a  fairly  good  camping  location  and 
was  soon  in  my  blankets  again.  I  had  frequent  regrets  for 
crossing  the  river;  so  far,  I  had  found  no  berries  or  roots.  I 
imagined  several  times  I  could  see  protected  spots  across  the 
stream  where  I  was  almost  sure  there  were  a  few  left. 

1  slept  unusually  well  that  night  and  as  the  morning  dawned 
clear  and  warmer,  I  felt  my  hope  thermometer  rise  a  little. 
The  last  taste  of  food  I  had  was  the  little  nibble  of  pickle  I 
had  found  several  days  before.  After  making  a  fire  and 
heating  some  water  I  rolled  up  my  blankets  and  was  soon  on 
my  way,  being  fortunate  enough  to  find  several  long  gravel 
bars  ahead  of  me,  but  even  on  these  I  found  I  had  to  take  a 
long  rest  every  twenty  or  thirty  feet. 

After  some  hours  the  good  walking  gave  out  and  the  river 
bank  became  thickly  lined  with  dense,  wild,  well  nigh  impass- 


60  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

able  willow  groves.  The  wind  as  usual  had  played  sad  havoc, 
and  there  were  as  many  dead  as  live  ones.  "Mushing" 
through  this  tangled  mass  would  have  been  slow  work  for  a 
strong  man,  but  I  traveled  at  a  snail's  pace;  many  a  bad  fall 
I  received,  being  too  weak  to  catch  myself  when  I  stumbled. 
Early  in  the  afternoon  I  came  to  an  old  channel  of  the  river. 
The  stream  had  evidently  in  former  years  made  a  semi- 
circular bend  in  towards  the  foothills,  on  the  side  on  which  I 
then  was.  In  some  manner  it  had  straightened  itself  and  now 
ran  its  direct  course.  At  first  I  thought  I  had  come  to  a  dry 
creek  from  the  mountains,  but  this  seemed  impossible  at  this 
time  of  the  year,  and  I  soon  came  to  the  right  conclusion.  I 
at  once  determined  to  follow  the  old  river  bed,  noticing  a 
number  of  foot  tracks  in  the  damp  gravel,  and  among  them 
those  of  the  two  men  I  had  been  following  for  weeks.  By 
the  time  I  had  completed  the  semi-circle  I  was  very  tired.  In 
front  of  me  on  the  bank  was  a  large  clump  of  willows.  I  strug- 
gled through  them  for  awhile,  until  I  came  to  a  little 
knoll,  where  I  concluded  to  camp.  I  noticed  that 
between  the  river  and  the  foothills  there  was  a  very 
bad  looking  marsh  of  several  hundred  acres,  but  thought, 
in  the  morning,  I  would  continue  down  the  bank  and  avoid 
this.  Dropping  my  pack  from  my  back,  I  began  collecting 
wood  for  a  fire.  There  was  more  nice,  dry  wood  here  than  I 
had  found  at  any  other  place  on  my  entire  trip.  Within  a 
space  of  ten  feet  I  was  able  to  collect  wood  enough  for  a  big 
camp  fire.  My  blankets  needed  drying  badly  and  I  was  glad 
to  have  so  good  an  opportunity  to  dry  them. 

At  one  side  of  this  elevation  was  a  little  "nigger-head" 
swale,  it  being  about  fifteen  feet,  I  should  judge,  from  the 
top  down  to  the  water  in  this  sluggish  stream,  which,  by  the 
way,  seemed  to  empty  into  the  main  river.  The  knoll  upon 
which  I  was  camped  was  between  this  nigger-head  swale 
and  the  dry  channel  which  I  had  come  down.  I  cut  some 
boughs  for  my  bed,  and  laid  them  sloping  down  hill;  this  still 
left  probably  eight  or  ten  feet  between  the  foot  of  my  bed  and 
the  shallow  water  below  me.  I  made  a  big  fire,  dried  by  bed- 
clothes and  got  into  them;  being  very  tired  I  went  to  sleep 
much  sooner  than  usual.  About  eleven  o'clock  in  the  night 
I  was  •  awakened  by  rain,  but  this  was  nothing  new  to  me. 
Besides,  the  weather  seemed  unusually  warm,  so  pulling  in  the 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  61 

outside  edges  of  niy  blankets    as    much    as   possible    to  keep 
tliein  dry,  I  dozed  off  to  sleep  again. 

In  the  morning  it  was  still  raining  and  I  did  not  get  up  that 
day.  About  twelve  on  the  second  night  I  had  a  sensation  that 
felt  as  though  my  feet  were  in  water;  when  I  came  to  think 
of  the  distance  down  to  the  "nigger-heads"  I  was  sure  I  must 
be  mistaken.  Lying  there,  half  awake,  for  some  moments,  I 
still  had  that  peculiar  feeling;  and  though  as  usual,  I  had 
tied  myself  in  my  blankets,  I  managed  to  reach  my  hands  down 
to  my  feet.  To  my  horror  the  water  was  up  to  my  ankles. 
I  then  realized  that  the  warm  rain  must  have  melted  the 
snow  on  the  low  hills  and  that  I  was  in  a  rushing,  roaring 
flood.  As  I  listened  I  could  hear  that  peculiar  rumble  so  well 
known  to  every  one  who  has  ever  been  in  a  flood.  Dark  as 
it  was  I  could  see  by  the  glinting  on  the  water  that  the  old 
channel,  along  which  I  had  come  into  this  place,  was  also  lull 
to  overflowing.  Untying  my  blanket  rope  I  managed,  in  the 
rain  and  wet,  to  push  some  of  the  boughs  a  couple  of  feet  fur- 
ther up  the  knoll  and  pull  myself  on  to  them,  never  dreaming 
the  water  could  get  any  higher.  I  dozed  off  again  shortly, 
(for  some  reason  I  felt  unusually  drowsy)  but  in  an  hour  or 
so  I  was  again  awakened  and  putting  my  hand  down  found 
the  water  a  little  above  my  knees;  the  rain  was  still  pouring 
down.  Jumping  up  as  quickly  as  my  physical  condition  would 
permit  me,  I  reached  for  my  rubber  boots  where  I  remembered 
having  left  them.  I  found  them  in  the  water;  one  sock  had 
washed  away.  Pouring  the  water  out  of  my  boots  I  pulled 
them  on.  I  had  hung  my  haversack  on  a  limb;  this  I  easily 
got.  All  my  cans  except  a  couple,  had  washed  away.  The 
lower  part  of  my  blankets  were  of  course  soaked  with  water. 
In  the  dark  I  pulled  them  and  my  other  things  to  the  very 
top  of  the  knoll  and  throwing  the  single  blanket  down  against 
a  small  willow  tree,  sat  down  on  it  with  my  back  against  the 
shrub  and  drew  the  dryer  part  of  my  double  blanket  over  me. 
The  drowsy  spell  overpowered  me  again  in  a  few  minutes, 
and  a  half  hour  or  so  afterward  my  shoulder  slipped  on  the 
tree  and  instinctively  I  threw  out  my  hand  to  the  ground  to 
catch  myself.  I  was  suddenly  awakened  by  clapping  un- 
hand into  several  inches  of  water.  Here  was  a  terrible  sit- 
uation. I  knew  this  was  the  highest  point.  It  was  still  pitch 
dark,  except  that  I  could  see  a  little  glimmering  on  the  water 


STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 
62 

all  around  me.  I  could  hear  the  maddening  rush  and  roar 
of  the  angry  waters  on  all  sides,  and  knew  not  what  to  do  or 
which  way  to  turn.  It  was  evident  that  the  freshet  was 
growing  in  force  and  volume  every  moment.  I  knew  I  could 
not  get  out  through  the  swamp  for  that  was  probably  now  a 
deep  lake.  Neither  could  I  retrace  my  steps,  for  as  I  said 
before,  I  could  see  that  the  channel  was  overflowing  its  banks; 
there  was  one  possible  chance;  I  might  keep  along  the  high 
edge  of  the  river.  With  my  haversack  over  my  shoulder  and 
dragging  my  blankets,  I  tried  this.  After  a  few  yards'  travel 
I  found  there  was  no  hope  in  this  direction.  I  could  not  have 
done  it  even  if  I  had  been  strong,  for  there  was  no  spot  so  high 
as  the  knoll  I  was  on.  Every  step  took  me  deeper  and  deeper 
until  in  a  few  yards  I  was  to  the  top  of  my  rubber  boots  in 
water.  Daylight  began  to  break  by  this  time  and  in  the  dawn 
I  could  see  an  unusually  large  scrub  willow  standing  in  the 
rushing  water.  Its  forks  were  several  feet  above  the  surface. 
I  threw  my  smaller  blanket  into  the  crotch  of  another  tree  and 
still  dragging  my  double  blanket,  struggled  to  this  one.  With 
strength  born  of  desperation  I  managed  to  get  between  its  pro- 
tecting limbs;  my  weight,  poor  as  I  was,  pulled  it  down  until 
I  began  to  fear  it  would  be  no  higher  than  the  knoll.  How- 
ever, when  I  got  quiet  I  found  I  was  at  the  highest  accessible 
point.  I  held  tightly  to  the  top  fork  to  keep  it  from  splitting, 
as  this  wood  splits  very  easily  and  I  knew  that  to  fall  on  my 
back  in  that  water  was  to  drown.  With  one  hand  I  managed 
to  get  the  blanket  over  me  and  this  broke  the  rain  to  some 
extent.  I  did  not  dare  allow  myself  to  doze  now. 

Dawn  soon  turned  to  broad  daylight.  I  watched  the  trunk 
of  that  tree  as  a  cat  watches  a  mouse.  By  the  limb  marks  I 
could  see  that  the  water  was  still  rapidly  rising.  I  would  no- 
tice a  spot  on  the  trunk  an  inch  or  so  above  the  water  line  and 
in  a  few  minutes  it  was  covered.  Finally  the  water  came 
up  to  within,  probably,  a  foot  of  me.  I  saw  death  at  my  side. 
My  dear  reader,  I  speak  truly  when  I  say  I  prayed,  of  the 
two  manner  of  deaths  now  before  me,  if  I  had  to  go  by  either 
one,  that  I  be  given  death  by  drowning.  For  weeks  I  had  cal- 
culated that  the  chances  of  starvation  were  as  a  hundred  to 
one.  All  at  once  the  water  stopped  rising  and  remained 
stationary  for  several  minutes.  Then  it  began  to  recede. 

I  watched  it  going  down  as  rapidly  as  it  came  up.     Soon  I 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  63 

became  drowsy  again  and  putting  some  more  boughs  across 
the  limb  I  was  on,  fell  into  a  deep  sleep.  When  I  awoke  some 
hours  afterward,  the  water  had  run  off  and  the  ground  under 
me  was  comparatively  dry;  the  rain  had  stopped  and  a  heavy 
drying  wind  was  blowing.  I  was  shivering  with  cold.  "\Vhat 
could  be  done  ?  I  did  not  like  this  drowsiness  that  had  taken 
possession  of  me  and  deemed  it  a  bad  sign,  as  my  senses  had 
all  been  so  acute  before.  I  knew  if  I  had  some  hot  water  I 
could  soon  warm  myself,  but  did  not  think  there  was  any 
chance  to  make  a  fire  with  everything  so  wet.  I  tried  it,  how- 
ever, and  luckily  was  successful  at  the  second  match.  The  wind 
had  dried  the  willow  tips.  I  could  not  make  a  big  one  as  I  did 
the  first  night  though,  but  still  had  plenty  of  hot  water  and  dried 
my  blankets  some.  They  were  so  wet  I  could  not  get  them 
entirely  dry.  I  do  not  know  what  I  should  have  done  if  I  had 
not  gotten  the  hot  water,  because  in  my  weak  condition  I 
would  very  likely  have  died  of  pneumonia  that  night.  I  could 
not  warm  up  by  k  k  mushing"  as  I  did  once  or  twice  before  under 
similar  circumstances.  I  cut  some  dry  boughs  and  went  to 
bed  early,  feeling 'too  weak  to  try  to  get  out  of  the  swamp 
that  day;  in  fact  my  dreadful  experience  of  the  night  before 
had  taken  almost  every  particle  of  strength  I  had  left.  It 
was  the  beginning  of  the  end.  Drinking  some  more  hot 
water,  and  with  no  taste  of  grass  or  anything  else,  I  went  to 
bed  and  to  sleep. 

The  sun  came  up  clear  and  bright  next  morning  and  I  man- 
aged to  arise  from  my  blankets,  but  staggering,  fell  against 
a  tree,  not  fainting,  however.  I  rolled  my  blankets  after  a 
great  effort,  and  shouldering  them  tottered  through  the 
willows  down  the  stream.  After  traveling  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  I  came  to  an  unexpected  obstacle  in  the  shape  of  a 
deep  creek,  the  result  of  the  flood,  emptying  into  the  main 
river.  Oh,  how  I  did  hate  to  retrace  my  steps  over  that  rough 
ground  and  through  the  tangled  brush,  but  it  had  to  be  done 
and  I  did  it.  To  cross  the  swamp  was  then  my  only  recourse, 
as  the  old  channel  was  still  full  of  water.  I  started  but  could 
not  take  over  ten  steps  without,  stopping.  I  could  neither  sit 
nor  lie  down  on  account  of  the  deep  morass,  but  had  to  rest 
standing.  I  fell  in  the  muck  a  number  of  times,  but  by  sheer 
will  power,  struggled  on,  as  I  did  not  want  to  die  in  this  mire. 


64  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

About  sundown  I  arrived  at  the  outer  bank  and  exhausted, 
crawled  into  my  blankets. 

The  next  day  was  not  a  bad  one ;  still  I  did  not  have  sufficient 
strength  to  get  up  and  "mush"  along,  although  I  knew  that 
every  day  of  delay  was  now  reducing  what  little  chance  of 
rescue  I  might  have.  I  slept  all  day.  Toward  evening  it 
began  to  snow,  and  kept  it  up. at  intervals  all  night.  I  had 
arrived  at  that  stage  where  I  seldom  dreamed  of  good  things 
to  eat.  As  I  have  already  said,  in  the  earlier  stages  every 
dream  was  of  the  dining  table.  When  morning  came  I  found  a 
sleeting,  cold,  windy  day.  I  determined  to  make  at  least  one 
more  effort,  so,  near  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  I  staggered  to 
my  feet,  made  a  fire  and  boiled  some  tundra  water.  This 
warmed  me  a  little.  Every  half  hour  or  so  a  heavy  snowstorm 
would  pass  over.  During  the  couple  of  warm  days,  while  I 
was  having  my  experience  in  the  swamp,  most  of  the  snow  on 
the  lower  foothills  had  melted  off,  but  now  again  they  were 
white,  and  the  wind  that  blew  over  them  was  piercing.  I  had 
a  hard  time  rolling  my  blankets  that  morning.  There  were 
very  few  sparks  of  vital  energy  left  in  my  poor  frame.  To 
make  matters  worse,  another  dismal  swamp  was  to  be  crossed; 
otherwise  I  would  have  had  to  take  what  seemed  an  even 
worse  trip  around  it.  It  was  not  quite  so  wide  as  the  last  one, 
but  I  had  a  dread  of  dying  like  a  poor  old  farmyard  cow  in 
a  pasture  bog.  With  my  pack  on  my  back,  I  couM  hardly 
stand  up  straight,  let  alone  accomplish  the  fearful  task  before 
me.  Something  had  to  be  done — I  must  either  give  up  and 
lie  down  never  to  rise  again,  or  make  an  effort  to  proceed. 
With  a  dogged  perseverance  I  did  not  know  was  in  me,  I 
started.  A  cold  shiver  ran  through  me,  as  I  staggered  through 
the  tundra  of  the  hillside,  into  the  morass;  it  began  snowing 
again  just  as  I  started.  Slowly,  step  by  step,  for  hours  I 
writhed  and  struggled  through  this  slime,  falling  a1  number 
of  times,  fearing  each  time  that  I  would  not  be  able  to  rise 
again. 

On  a  little  dry  spot  about  half  way  across,  I  found  an  old 
ptarmigan  nest,  and  saw  that  it  contained  one  egg  about  the 
size  of  a  pullet's.  With  a  haste  you  can  well  imagine,  I  broke 
it;  there  was  nothing  left  but  sulphurated  hydrogen.  A  few 
minutes  afterward  I  was  taken  deathly  sick  at  my  stomach., 
and  sorely  wrenched  myself  in  a  vain  effort  to  relieve  this 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  65 

nausea,  not  knowing  whether  it  was  caused  by  the  bad  egg 
or  weakness,  but  hoping  it  was  from  the  former,  not  liking  the 
symptoms  if  it  was  the  latter.  I  finally  reached  the  bank  again, 
and  assure  you  I  felt  like  getting  into  my  blankets,  but  had 
lost  so  much  time  lately,  and  the  weather  was  becoming  so 
terribly  cold  that,  weak  and  chilled  as  I  was,  I  resolved  to 
struggle  on.  In  front  of  me,  when  I  had  climbed  the  bank, 
was  a  comparatively  level  tundra  of  several  hundred  acres 
that  had  been  all  burned  over,  probably  during  the  summer 
season.  By  crossing  this  I  would  save  a  big  bend  in  the  river 
and  arrive  again  shortly  at  the  old  river  bank.  By  the  term 
"old  bank"  frequently  used  heretofore,  is  meant  the  one  next 
to  the  foothills.  The  stream,  in  its  endeavor  to  carry  off  the 
water,  caused  by  a  sudden  thaw  in  the  spring,  cuts -a  bed  as 
wide  as  the  foothills  happen  to  be  apart;  during  lower  water, 
the  actual  bank  of  the  river  at  the  edge  of  the  stream  may  be 
a  half-mile  away  from  the  old  bank. 

I  headed  for  my  objective  point.  As  I  moved  along  through 
the  burned  ground,  I  picked  up  dozens  of  empty  snail  shells, 
but  no  live  ones.  On  the  way  across  this  burned  tundra,  I 
came  to  a  creek  running  down  from  the  mountains,  and  empty- 
ing into  the  main  river  near  by.  Here  again  I  saw  several 
beautiful  salmon  trout  sporting  about  in  the  water. 

This  little  stream  had  cut  a  deep  gully,  and  one  of  the  heavy 
snowstorms  being  then  at  its  height,  I  rested  here  nearly  an 
hour,  fairly  well  protected  from  the  driving  sleet.  Deter- 
mined to  go  as  far  as  possible  in  order  to  make  up  for  the  loss 
of  the  previous  day,  I  soon  shouldered  my  blankets  and  again 
struggled  on.  Although  the  burned  tundra  was  comparatively 
easy  walking,  I  could  barely  drag  one  foot  after  the  other. 
A  number  of  times,  when  I  had  stumbled  and  fallen,  it  was 
almost  impossible  for  me  to  rise  again.  I  was  determined,  if 
possible,  though,  to  get  to  the  old  bank  of  the  river,  which  I 
now  saw  before  me,  feeling  sure  I  would  have  better  protec- 
tion from  the  storm  and  wind,  as  the  bluff  at  this  place  ran 
easterly  and  westerly,  and  the  chilling  blasts  came  from  the 
north.  Within  about  a  hundred  yards  of  my  destination  I 
fell,  and  this  time  could  not  rise.  I  was  still  on  the  flat, 
burned  tundra,  fully  exposed  to  the  weather.  I  crawled  on 
my  hands  and  knees  to  the  edge  of  the  embankment,  and  must 
have  been  a  horrible  sight,  struggling  over  the  burned  hill- 


66  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

side.  My  hands,  and,  I  presume,  my  face,  were  as  black  as  a 
negro;  I  was  as  near  a  living  skeleton  as  a  man  ever  gets  to 
be;  tall,  gaunt,  bony,  and  black,  I  surely  was  a  weird  looking 
object.  A  few  feet  below  me  on  the  steep  slope,  grew  some 
small  willows,  almost  in  a  row,  and  about  the  length  of  my 
body.  I  knew  that  to  lie  on  the  wet  ground  was  to  accelerate 
death,  so  being  unable  to  cut  boughs  as  heretofore,  I  managed 
to  crawl  down  the  bank  to  this  brush.  Near  my  feet,  a  little 
rill  of  dark  germ-infected  water  trickled  down  the  slope.  I 
managed  to  get  my  pack  unrolled,  and  tied  myself  in  my 
blankets.  Then  I  rolled  over  on  these  bushes,  and  was 
thus  off  the  wee  sod.  My  head  was  lower  than  my  feet, 
making  a  very  uncomfortable  position,  but  little  did  such  a 
thing  as  that  bother  me  now.  Pulling  my  blankets  up  over 
my  head,  I  lay  there  panting  and  pondering.  I  was  sure  I 
should  feel  stronger  in  the  morning.  Had  I  not  often  been 
compelled  to  stop  from  weakness,  even  weeks  before?  Was 
I  not  always  able  to  go  some  distance  at  least,  the  next  time 
I  started? 

In  an  hour  or  so  I  was  again  attacked  by  nausea.  There 
being  nothing  to  emit,  the  wrenching  was  terrible.  Lying  on 
my  back,  my  feet  'higher  than  my  head,  tied  in  my  blankets, 
and  unable  to  get  an  easier  position,  I  thought  my  farewell  to 
this  world  of  care  and  sorrow  was  at  hand.  If  mortal  man 
ever  wishes  for  the  ministering  hands  of  loved  ones,  it  is  in 
an  extremity  like  this.  The  sickness  at  my  stomach  passed 
away  shortly,  but  recurred  a  couple  of  times  during  the  night. 
I  dropped  off  to  sleep  near  morning,  and  slept  until  the  sun 
was  well  up;  the  day  was  clear  and  cold,  as  were,  in  fact,  the 
remaining  days  until  I  was  found. 

When  I  awoke,  and  before  I  moved  at  all,  I  felt  I  was  much 
stronger  and  was  sure  I  would  be  able  to  go  quite  a  little  dis- 
tance that  day.  Poor,  deluded  mortal!  When  I  endeavored 
to  rise  I  found  the  end  had  come  at  last.  Struggle  as  I  would, 
I  could  not  get  to  my  feet.  My  last  spark  of  hope  was  gone. 
I  knew  that  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  could  save  me  now.  It 
was  too  late  in  the  season  to  expect  prospectors,  and  besides 
I  was  half  a  mile  from  the  river  in  the  brush,  and  if  a  late 
miner  should  pass  he  would  go  up  or  down  the  stream.  For 
weeks  I  had  known  I  had  very  little  chance  for  life;  now  I 
was  sure  of  death.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  I  did  not  have  the 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  67 

fear  of  death  that  I  had  always  thought  I  would  have.  I 
hated  to  be  cut  off  in  the  prime  of  life,  but  what  did  worry  me 
much  more  than  the  dying,  was  the  fact  that  my  bones  should 
he  torn  apart  by  the  wild  animals  and  Malamoot  dogs,  and 
scattered  to  the  four  winds  of  the  earth — an  arm  here  and  a 
thigh  bone  there;  that  my  relatives  would  never  know  where 
1  had  died,  nor  where  my  remains  were.  While  this  is  mere 
sentiment,  and  would  never  be  thought  of  by  some  people,  I 
plead  guilty  to  being  brimful  of  that  feeling,  and  am  glad  of  it. 
I  thought  over  my  past  life,  and  found  that  my  conscience  was 
clear — that  while  I  had  been  by  no.  means  a  saint,  my  sins  were 
largely  errors  of  the  head  and  not  of  the  heart.  I  have 
always  been  a  firm  believer  in  a  Supreme  Being  and  a  here- 
after. I  have  ever  hated  hypocrisy,  and  would  never  attach 
myself  to  any  creed  unless  I  thought  I  could  live  up  to  its 
teachings.  I  remember  well  lying  there,  thinking,  "Now 
within  five  days  I  will  know  what  the  Great  Hereafter  is." 
1  do  not  know  why  1  put  the  limit  at  five  days,  for,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  would  not  have  lived  half  that  long. 

Sometime  during  the  forenoon,  on  the  second  day,  as  I  lay 
there  waiting  for  death,  my  head  under  the  blankets,  I  thought 
1  heard  a  shot.  I  had  been  fooled  so  often  before  that  I  had 
little  faith  in  the  correctness  of  my  supposition,  but  pulled  the 
cover  down  and  called,  "Help!  Help!"  as  loudly  as  my  feeble, 
child-like  voice  would  permit.  I  received  no  answer,  but  after- 
wards learned  from  the  boys  who  found  me  that  they  did  fire 

•••line  birds  over  on  the  river,  on  their  way  up  the  stream. 
During  the  first  day  I  managed  to  crawl  out  on  my  hands  and 
knees,  and  pluck  a  handful  of  grass  that  was  growing  in  a 
protected  spot  on  the  bank  near  me,  get  a  little  water  from  the 
rill  at  my  feet,  make  a  small  fire  and  boil  the  grass  in  the 
water.  I  drank  a  portion  of  this — a  teacupful  perhaps,  but 
had  nothing  more  until  found,  nor  did  I  again  get  out  of  my 
blankets  during  the  balance  of  the  four  days  I  lay  there.  I 
had  the  same  drowsy  feeling  I  experienced  in  the  swamp. 
Nausea  troubled  me  no  more,  but  late  in  the  evening  of  the 
day  before  I  was  found  I  experienced  a  most  peculiar  sensa- 
tion, and  one,  I  am  told,  not  a  person  in  thousands  ever  goes 
through.  Beginning  at  my  pelvis  I  could  distinctly  feel  my 
stomach  fall  against  my  spine,  gradually,  as  though  a  heavy 
flat  iron  had  been  placed  at  that  point  on  my  flesh,  and  "run  up 


68  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

the  medial  line;  when  this  took  place  I  knew  my  hours  were 
numbered.  I  had  read  of  the  feeling  in  medical  works.  Med- 
ical men  tell  me  that  one  of  the  most  singular  facts  connected 
with  my  case  is  that  I  retained  my  mind  to  the  last  moment. 
The  boys  who  found  me  say  I  was  perfectly  rational,  and  I, 
myself,  know  I  was.  Several  cases  have  happened  here  in 
Alaska,  since  I  was  rescued,  in  which  starving  men  have  lost 
their  minds  in  from  three  to  seven  days.  If  I  had  not  retained 
mine,  my  life  would  have  gone  out  like  a  candle. 

When  I  crawled  back  into  my  blankets  on  the  second  day, 
I  was  unable  for  lack  of  strength  to  make  my  position  any  more 
comfortable.  My  head  was  still  lower  than  my  feet. 

Toward  noon  on  September  22nd,  as  I  was  lying  in  my 
blankets  with  my  head  covered  and  a  peculiar,  drowsy 
feeling  on  me,  I  thought  I  heard  voices.  I  was  perfectly  con- 
scious, but  came  very  nearly  not  trying  to  call  because  I  had 
been  so  often  disappointed  before.  There  is  a  kind  of  bird  in 
these  mountains  that,  at  night,  makes  .a  sound  very  much  like 
a  human  being.  It  had  fooled  me  many  times.  Still,  without 
expecting  any  reply,  I  pulled  the  blankets  off  my  head  and 
called,  "Hello,  Hello!  Help!  Help!" 

My  heart  almost  stopped  beating  when  in  return  I  heard, 
"Hello  there,  what  do  you  want!"  I  answered,  "Come  here, 
please ' ' ;  then  I  could  hear  one  say  to  the  other,  * 1 1  guess  there 's 
some  fellow  in  trouble  over  there. ' '  At  this  time  they  could  not 
see  me  on  account  of  the  brush,  and  I  could  not  turn  my  head, 
much  less  raise  myself  up.  They  were  down  in  the  old  river 
bed,  and  I  was,  as  you  already  know,  on  the  slope  of  the  bank. 
Dear  reader,  I  have  told  you  in  the  previous  chapter  that  there 
were  portions  of  my  experience  that  words  were  inadequate  to 
describe;  this  is  one  of  them.  I  had  wandered  for  sixty-seven 
days  over  the  roughest  part  of  wild  Alaska  without  food,  with- 
out hearing  a  human  voice,  literally  almost  without  hope.  I  had 
now  resigned  myself  to  death,  and,  silently,  awaited  the  ap- 
proach of  the  grim  monster;  he  was  but  a  few  short  hours 
behind  his  prey ;  I  could  feel  the  chill  of  his  clammy  claws ;  his 
enveloping  saliva,  such  as  a  snake  is  said  to  emit  over  the 
body  of  the  frog  before  it  swallows  it,  was  fast  covering  me;  I 
could  indistinctly  hear  the  muffled  oars  of  his  boatman,  Charon, 
as  he  made  ready  to  effect  a  landing  and  take  another  solitary 
passenger  to  the  side  of  the  Great  Majority.  Then  to  know 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  69 

that  help  was  at  hand,  and  life  once  more  before  me  was  cer- 
tainly an  indescribable  feeling. 

I  have  read,  in  the  old  school  books,  of  a  man  being  pardoned 
while  standing  on  the  trap  of  the  gallows;  I  could  never  fully 
appreciate  his  feelings  before. 

As  the  two  young  men  approached  me,  leading  their  pack 
horse,  one  of  them  called  out  as  soon  as  he  saw  me,  "What's 
the  matter:"  In  my  feeble  voice  I  replied,  "I  have  had 
nothing  to  eat  for  over  two  months. "  He  afterward  told  me 
that  he  thought,  at  the  time,  I  was  some  poor  fellow  who  had 
been  without  food  for  four  or  five  days,  and  was  out  of  my 
mind,  but  when  he  got  to  me,  saw  the  condition  of  my  body 
and  talked  with  me,  he  changed  his  opinion.  The  two  good- 
hearted  young  'miners  who  found  me  were  John  L.  0  'Brien, 
known  among  his  friends  as  "Jack"  O'Brien,  and  Frank  Hen- 
son,  both  of  Nome.  They  had  been  camped  for  two  weeks  with 
a  couple  of  companions,  William  Clinton  and  Frank  Henry, 
seven  miles  from  where  they  found  me. 

After  the  boys  talked  to  me  a  few  moments,  Frank  grabbed 
his  gun  and  started  out  to  kill  a  ptarmigan  to  make  me  some 
broth.  Both  being  old  timers  in  the  country,  knew  it  would 
never  do  to  give  me  solid  food,  though  I  begged  for  it  as  only 
a  starving  man  can.  Jack,  after  raising  me  to  a  more  com- 
fortable position,  went  to  his  pack  and,  cutting  a  very  thin 
piece  of  bacon,  parboiled  and  fried  it,  cooked  a  potato  until 
it  was  mushy  and  passed  them  to  me  together  with  a  small 
pancake,  on  a  tin  plate.  Here  again  the  vocabulary  contains 
no  words  that  will  convey  to  the  reader,  who  has  never  been 
starved,  the  gratification  of  these  few  niouthfuls.  I  have 
heard  of  "nectar  for  the  gods";  this  was  what  the  food  seemed 
to  me. 

I  had  eaten  a  few  niouthfuls  and  Jack  had  turned  around 
to  the  rill  to  wash  his  hands,  when  I  was  seized  with  a  pain 
that  I  thought  meant  my  end.  He  looked  around  and  saw  my 
face,  and  immediately  jumped  to  me  and  asked  what  was  the 
matter.  By  this  time  I  began  to  feel  a  little  better.  I  ex- 
plained to  him  that  I  had  had  a  feeling  as  though  melted  lead 
was  being  poured  down  my  throat.  It  was  no  doubt  the  irri- 
tation caused  by  food  going  into  a  stomach  that  was  "caved 
in". 

I  had  never  shed  a  tear  on  the  trip,  but  when  I  was  asked  by 


70  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

Jack  who  I  was,  and  where  I  came  from,  tears  rolled  down  my 
cheeks  as  I  told  of  leaving  a  dear  old  father  of  over  eighty,  and 
relatives  and  friends  in  California  the  April  before,  and  coming 
to  Alaska  to  seek  my  fortune  in  the  gold  mines. 

I  begged  Jack  not  to  leave  me  alone,  as  it  really  seemed  I 
must  be  in  a  dream,  of  which  I  had  had  so  many.  I  call  the 
boys  by  their  given  names,  because  I  have  since  learned  to 
know  them  well,  and  love  them  for  their  noble,  generous  treat- 
ment of  me. 

And  right  here  I  want  to  say  a  word  of  the  "sour  dough'' 
miner  of  Alaska,  and  the  same  holds  good  of  those  who  have 
followed  the  business  of  mining  any  length  of  time  whereso- 
ever dispersed  around  the  globe ;  but  I  wish  it  distinctly  under- 
stood that,  with  some  exceptions,  the  rule  does  not  apply  to 
the  "cheechako".  The  former  are  generally  noble,  true- 
hearted  men,  used  to  the  many  hardships  of  such  a  life,  used 
to  being  poor  one  year  and  perhaps  millionaires  the  next. 
They  are  liberal  to  a  fault.  They  will  take  the  coat  off  their 
backs  to  protect  from  the  driving  storm  a  fellow  being  in  dis- 
tress, having  themselves  often  received  the  same  treatment. 
Ready  to  fight  a  man  who  jumps  a  friend's  claim  or  otherwise 
abuses  him,  as  quickly  as  if  they  were  themselves  oppressed, 
yet  slow  to  anger  and  willing  to  give  and  take  if  the  right 
spirit  is  shown  by  the  other.  This  is  the  true  miner. 

Frank  returned,  after  a  couple  of  hours'  hard  hunting,  with- 
out a  bird,  but  the  boys  resolved  to  get  up  at  daylight  and 
kill  one  at  all  hazards— and  they  did.  Being  determined  I 
should  have  no  more  solid  food  while  in  their  care,  they  picked 
me  up  and  carried  me  about  a  hundred  yards  to  a  better  camp- 
ing place  on  the  flat,  threw  a  robe  over  me,  depriving  them- 
selves of  its  comfort  for  the  night,  made  a  rousing  big  brush 
fire  and  scantily  covered,  went  to  bed.  It  was  one  of  the  cold- 
est nights  of  the  season;  I  did  not  close  my  eyes  in  sleep  during 
this  or  the  two  following  nights,  and  looking  out  from  under 
my  oil  coat  in  the  early  morning,  I  could  almost  see  the  dew 
crystallize  into  frost.  During  the  night,  I  traveled,  in  my 
mind,  over  the  whole  dreadful  trip,  step  by  step. 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  71 

CHAPTER  V. 
IN  THE  HANDS  OF  FRIENDS. 

My  kind-hearted  rescuers  arose  at  four  o'clock,  cold  as  it 
was,  and  taking  their  guns,  started  out  after  ptarmigan  for 
the  purpose  of  making  broth  for  me.  After  a  couple  of  hours 
they  returned  with  one;  making  a  huge  fire  near  my  feet  they 
warmed  themselves,  and,  when  it  had  burned  down  to  coals, 
cooked  breakfast.  The  broth  they  gave  me  was  delicious, 
but  I  craved  something  more  substantial;  of  course,  I  was  not 
allowed  to  have  it.  I  begged  most  piteously,  but  that  did  no 
good;  the  boys  did  not  propose  I  should  kill  myself  after  they 
had  rescued  me.  After  breakfast,  the  pack  saddle  was  put 
onto  the  horse,  and  I  was  tied  on.  The  boys  had  to  leave 
their  picks,  pans,  shovels  and  several  other  things,  as  there  was 
no  room  on  the  poor  horse.  We  soon  started  aver  the  rough 
tundra  for  the  tent,  seven  miles  away.  Frank  led  the  animal, 
and  Jack,  with  'the  gun  on  his  shoulder,  kept  a  look-out  for 
ptarmigan.  The  sun  came  up  brightly,  and,  except  for  the 
terrible  jolting  I  received  as  the  horse  struggled  across  the 
morass,  the  ride  was  not  a  hard  one.  When  we  finally  arrived 
at  our  destination  I  was  gently  lowered  from  my  position  and 
carried  to  a  bed  in  the  tent.  I  was  more  comfortable  during 
the  two  days  and  three  nights  I  was  there  than  I  had  been  in 
nine  weeks  before,  and  the  many  months  that  have  passed  from 
that  time  to  the  present  writing.  The  only  thing  that  both- 
ered me  was  my  inordinate  appetite.  The  boys  killed  many 
ptarmigan  during  these  two  days,  but  I  only  got  the  broth. 
How  I  did  implore  them  to  let  me  have  some  solid  food!  I 
would  have  eaten  it  had  I  known  it  would  almost  kill  me. 
Here  again,  dear  reader,  words  fail  to  convey  the  sentiment. 
No  person,  except  one  who  has  been  at  the  verge  of  death  from 
starvation,  can  realize  the  almost  insane  craving  for  food  under 
these  circumstances.  The  desire  to  eat  is  as  strong  as  it  wa- 
before  you  had  anything  at  all,  and  oh,  the  taste  of  what  you 
do  eat!  !  I  would  forfeit  many  months  of  my  life  if  I  could 
enjoy  my  food  all  the  balance  of  my  days  as  I  did  for  the  first 
two  weeks  after  I  was  found.  To  see  the  boys  eating  solid 
food,  and  not  be  able  to  join  them  was  torture.  The  meals 
were  eaten  as  the  boys  reclined  on  their  blankets,  on  the  floor. 


72  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

Bill  Clinton,  who,  by  the  way,  was  a  great  big  good-hearted 
fellow,  fair,  fat,  but  not  forty,  always  lay  next  to  me.  When 
the  other  boys  were  not  looking,  I  would  quietly  beg  Bill  to 
give  me  a  mouthful  of  solid  food — beans,  potatoes,  ptarmigan 
or  bread.  He  could  not  resist,  and  in  this  way  I  got  many 
a  toothsome  morsel  unknown  to  the  other  three.  They  caught 
him  in  the  act  once,  and  scolded  him  roundly.  If  all  the  boys 
went  out  they  hid  everything  that  was  edible.  I  had  a  par- 
ticular desire  for  "bannocks"  or  "punk",  a  kind  of  bread 
made  of  flour,  baking  powder  and  water  and  used  in  mining 
camps  from  pole  to  pole,  and  from  Portland,  Oregon,  to  Port- 
land, Maine.  The  boys  used  to  say  they  could  not  eat  it  them- 
selves without  being  greatly  distressed,  and  it  would  be  sure 
death  to  me,  but  many  a  little  piece  found  its  way  to  my  mouth 
through  BilPs  generosity. 

It  began  sleeting  and  snowing  the  day  after  we  got  to  the 
tent;  my  rescuers  had  counted  on  starting  to  Teller  with  me 
at  daylight  next  morning;  but,  when  day  dawned,  the  weather 
was  so  severe  that  they  concluded  to  wait  twenty-four  hours 
longer.  Their  provisions  were  getting  very  low,  and  they  were 
also  very  anxious  to  get  me  to  a  physician.  I  heard  one  of  their 
private  conversations  when  they  thought  I  was  asleep,  as  I  was 
lying  with  my  eyes  closed.  They  were  very  much  afraid  they 
could  not  get  me  to  town  alive. 

When  we  awoke  on  the  third  morning,  the  outlook  was  even 
worse  than  at  any  previous  time.  Things  were  getting  des- 
perate, so  the  boys  decided  to  start  anyway.  I  had  remarked 
to  my  companions  on  the  evening  before  that  I  felt  very  much 
as  a  man  must  feel  who  is  to  be  executed  next  morning  at  day- 
light. I  knew  that  even  in  good  weather  this  thirty-three  miles 
trip  would  be  a  terrible  one  for  me,  and  I  was  satisfied  that 
the  storm  would  not  abate  during  the  night.  I  lay  awake 
listening  to  the  howling  of  the  wind  and  BilPs  snoring  until 
nearly  daylight,  but,  not  having  been  able  to  sleep  any  since 
I  was  found,  finally  dropped  off  into  a  doze.  A  few  minutes 
after  dawn.  Jack's  sonorous  voice  awakened  the  camp.  Eub- 
bing  their  eyes,  they  all  arose  and  Frank  Henson  cooked  a 
hurried  breakfast.  As  soon  as  this  was  through,  the  work  of 
breaking  camp  began  in  earnest.  Each  one  had  his  allotted 
work  to  do,  and  soon  we  were  ready  to  start  on  the  terrible 
journey.  They  had  decided  to  leave  the  tent,  Yukon  stove, 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  73 

picks,  shovels,  gold  pans  and  many  other  similar  objects  be- 
cause there  was  no  room  for  them  with  me  on  the  pack  horse. 
Some  poor  prospector  undoubtedly  made  a  rich  find.  When 
all  was  ready,  they  carried  me  forth  and  tied  me  to  the  pack 
saddle.  My  heavy  blanket — the  single  one  had  been  left 
where  I  was  found — was  thrown  over  my  shoulders,  and  the 
oil  coat  over  that.  We  started.  If  I  should  live  to  be  a  hun- 
dred years  old,  I  shall  never  forget  this  trip.  As  soon  as 
things  were  packed,  two  of  the  boys  started  ahead.  Frank 
Henson  led  the  horse,  and  the  other,  (Bill  Clinton,  I  think  it- 
was)  brought  up  the  rear.  It  was  about  two  miles  over  the 
worst  kind  of  a  morass  before  we  came  to  the  mountains. 
That  poor  horse  would  plunge  and  struggle  along  until  I 
thought  I  would  have  to  give  up,  and  lose  my  feeble  grip  on 
the  front  cross  bars  of  the  pack  saddle,  in  which  event  I 
would  have  fallen  over  the  side  of  the  horse.  My  two  days 
of  comparative  comfort  in  the  tent  had  made  my  feelings  very 
acute.  The  sleet  was  falling  so  fast  we  could  only  see  a  short 
distance  ahead,  but  the  double  set  of  footprints  in  the  snow 
could  be  easily  followed.  At  last  we  came  to  the  mountains; 
everything  was  covered;  if  the  lowland  had  been  bad,  this 
was  doubly  so.  At  many  places  we  had  to  ascend  and  de- 
scend over  sheer  precipices  at  an  angle  of  almost  forty-five 
degrees.  The  loose  rocks  on  these  places  were  covered  with 
many  inches  of  snow,  and  how  that  horse  ever  kept  its  feet  is 
more  than  I  can  tell.  I  thought  every  minute  I  would  have  a 
broken  limb  or  two  to  add  to  my  other  calamities.  Finally, 
after  we  had  traveled  many  miles  over  the  mountains  and 
caught  up  with  the  other  two  boys,  we  all  got  lost  in  a  blinding 
snowstorm.  My  friends  had  been  heading  for  a  couple  of 
peaks  that  were  side  by  side,  and  looked  exactly  alike.  When 
they  came  to  the  place  where  they  thought  they  ought  to  see 
them  there  were  none  visible.  Here  indeed  was  a  fearful 
dilemma.  The  boys  were  complaining  that  they  thought 
their  feet  were  frozen.  Be  it  remembered  that  they  were  full 
of  health  and  life;  had  come  out  in  winter  dress  and  were 
exercising.  I  was  almost  a  corpse  from  starvation;  was 
dressed  in  my  summer  clothes,  was  not  exercising,  and  had  on 
rubber  boots  with  only  one  pair  of  socks.  Any  "sour  dough" 
knows  your  feet  will  freeze  in  rubber  quicker'  than  in  anything 
else. 


74  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

Frank  dropped  his  leading  rope,  leaving  the  horse  stand- 
ing, and  all  four  set  out  in  different  directions  to  hunt  up 
their  landmark — the  twin  peaks.  After  an  hour  or  so  of 
search  up  and  down  the  creeks,  a  glad  shout  from  one  of  the 
boys  announced  that  we  could  again  get  under  headway. 

My  rescuers  afterwards  told  me  they  dreaded  to  return  to 
the  horse  for  fear  I  had  already  crossed  the  Higher  Divide 
where  no  one  ever  loses  his  way.  At  this  time  it  was  agreed 
that  Frank  Henson,  who  had  been  leading  the  horse  should  go 
ahead  to  the  bay  on  the  opposite  side  from  Teller  and  see  if  a 
man,  who  had  been  camped  there  hunting  ptarmigan  two 
weeks  before,  was  still  there  with  his  boat.  If  so,  it  would 
save  many  miles  around  to  the  spit  where  a  kind  of  ferry  had 
been  established.  Eight  here  I  must  tell  the  reader  that  the 
great  mining  excitement  about  the  Bluestone,  Gold  Kun  and 
Krougarock  mining  districts  had  changed  the  town  of  Teller, 
which  I  had  left,  to  another  place  of  the  same  name  seven 
miles  away,  across  the  bay.  The  new  camp  had  many  sub- 
stantial two-story  buildings,  and  I  was  told,  contained  a  popu- 
lation at  that  time  of  nearly  one  thousand.  I  could  hardly 
believe  that  the  town,  of  which  I  was  a  trustee  when  I  left,  had 
been  wiped  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  this  new  city  had 
sprung  up,  all  while  I  was  without  a  meal.  Even  worse  than 
that,  the  new  place  was  not  started  until  a  month  after  I  was 
lost. 

Shortly  after  we  passed  the  "twins",  Grantley  Harbor  and 
Port  Clarence  Bay  came  into  view.  It  was  a  welcome  sight 
to  me,  I  assure  you.  There,  before  us,  lying  at  anchor  in  front 
of  Teller,  were  eight  large  ships;  we  had  not  had  two  ships  a 
month  at  old  Teller. 

A  mile  or  so  from  the  bay  shore  we  met  Frank  coming  to 
inform  us  that  the  hunter  had  gone,  but  there  was  a  man  with 
an  old  boat  collecting  wood  for  his  camp  some  distance  below. 
He  called  our  attention  to  the  fact  that  our  dog  had  lost  its 
pack;  all  the  cooking  utensils  had  been  strapped  on  the  little 
beast,  and  he  had  trotted  contentedly  along  behind  the  horse 
most  of  the  way. 

Finally  we  arrived  at  the  coast  line.  The  boys  hurriedly  lifted 
me  from  the  horse  to  a  blanket  spread  on  the  ground;  they  had 
not  realized  before  how  nearly  gone  I  was;  in  fact,  I  myself 
did  not.  For  some  time  it  was  a  struggle  between  life  and 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  75 

death.  The  owner  of  the  old  boat  was  there,  and  when  asked 
for  its  loan  to  carry  a  sick  man  across,  he  hesitated  and  said 
he  would  have  to  see  his  partner  who  was  hunting  nearby, 
first.  The. man  had  good  security;  the  boat  was  not  worth  ten 
dollars,  and  the  horse,  which  could  not  be  taken  over  at  that 
point,  was  worth  many  times  that  amount.  As  the  fellow 
walked  back  to  see  his  partner,  my  companions  agreed  among 
themselves  to  take  the  boat  by  force  if  he  showed  the  least  hesi- 
tancy when  he  returned.  Luckily,  he  came  back  and  reported 
that  he  could  not  find  his  partner,  but  that  we  could  take  the 
boat.  The  boys  carried  me  to  it,  and  laid  me  in  the  bottom 
on  some  blankets.  They  then  began  the  pull  for  Teller. 

Xothing  eventful  happened  on  the  way  over.  In  about  an 
hour  we  reached  our  landing  place.  I  was  hurriedly  taken 
from  the  boat  to  Wilson  Brothers'  store,  and  deposited  in  a 
chair  until  a  place  could  be  prepared  for  me.  There  was  not 
a  vacant  room  that  could  be  heated  in  the  town,  so  through 
the  kindness  of  Mr.  A.  McLean  and  Mr.  W.  J.  Morse,  I  was 
taken  to  a  cot  in  the  rear  of  their  saloon;  within  a  few  feet  of 
me  was  a  large  stove,  and  although  the  weather  was  cold,  I 
felt  comfortable. 

I  was  allowed  no  solid  food  for  several  days;  as  soon  as  I 
was  given  some  my  stomach  began  to  misbehave;  for  over  two 
months  I  never  ate  a  meal  but  what  I  paid  the  penalty.  My 
feet  began  to  swell  the  next  day  after  my  arrival  and  con- 
tinued in  this  condition  all  the  long,  dark,  dreary  winter. 

I  had  visitors  by  the  score;  it  seems  to  me  that  almost 
every  soul  of  the  several  hundred  people  in  town  at  that  time 
came  to  see  me.  Some  out  of  sympathy,  and  some  out  of 
curiosity;  a  number  of  newspaper  reporters  called.  A  special 
representative  of  the  San  Francisco  Examiner  had  photo- 
graphs taken  of  myself,  my  rescuers,  and  the  horse  that  so 
safely  brought  me  in;  even  the  dog  had  his  place  in  one  of  the 
pictures.  Speaking  of  this  horse,  I  must  say  my  heart  was 
full  of  gratitude  to  the  poor  animal.  The  boys  had  no  hay  or 
grain  left  for  him  while  we  were  in  camp,  so  they  fed  him 
bread  and  beans.  If  I  had  had  the  power  I  would  have  made 
as  inuch  of  him  as  Caligula,  Xero,  and  others  did  of  their  fa- 
vorite horses. 

We  arrived  at  Teller  a  few  days  before  the  last  boat  went 
out,  but  my  physical  condition  \vas  such  that  my  friends 


76  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

thought  I  would  be  very  foolish  to  attempt  such  a  long  trip 
when  storms  were  so  frequent.  Besides,  I  had  seen  but  little 
of  mining  life  in  Alaska,  and  hated  to  go  back  without  this 
experience;  I  did  not  then  know  that  I  was  about  to  face  the 
worst  winter  that  this  country  had  witnessed  in  over  a  decade. 
Dozens  upon  dozens  were  frozen  to  death  in  the  vicinity  of 
Nome  and  Teller.  Many  a  man  had  his  face,  fingers,  or  toes 
frozen  within  five  minutes  after  he  stepped  outside  his  door, 
even  though  warmly  dressed  for  winter.  If  possible,  I  suffered 
more  during  this  dreadful  winter  than  I  did  while  lost. 

I  will  conclude  this  chapter  by  quoting  from  one  local  paper 
and  one  outside  paper  in  regard  to  my  trip  and  rescue.  The 
papers  of  Alaska  and  of  every  State  in  the  Union  had  quite 
long  accounts  at  the  time. 

The  Nome  Weekly  News,  a  leading  paper  of  Alaska,  con- 
tained the  following  in  its  issue  of  October  6th,  1900: 

SAVED     FROM     STARVATION— ATTORNEY       HALL'S 
AWFUL  EXPERIENCE— LOST  IN  MOUNTAINS. 


His  Only  Food  for  Sixty-Seven  Days  Was  a  Pound  of  Bacon, 
a  Few  Crackers,  and  What  Berries  and  Roots  He 
Could  Gather. 


(From  a  Staff  Correspondent.) 

TELLER,  Oct.  2.— An  event  in  the  life  of  an  argonaut  in 
search  of  the  elusive  gold  has  happened  in  this  vicinity,  which 
seems  as  strange  and  unusual  as  the  tales  of  the  Arabian 
Nights.  It  is  the  experience  of  a  lost  man  who  has  almost 
crossed  the  portals  of  death  and  has  returned  to  life  after  the 
pangs  of  starvation  and  hardship  have  turned  his  robust  frame 
into  an  emaciated  skeleton.  It  is  the  story  of  man's  inhu- 
manity to  man,  of  base  ingratitude,  for  the  love  of  gold  which 
resulted  in  an  attorney's  battle  for  life  on  the  verge  of  star- 
vation for  the  long  period  of  sixty-seven  days. 

Attorney  James  A.  Hall  is  lying  on  a  cot  in  the  Teller  Saloon 
building,  slowly  recovering  from  the  effects  of  living  on 
berries  and  roots  while  lost  in  the  mountains  and  on  the  low- 
lands to  the  north  and  west  of  Teller  city. 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  77 

On  Sept.  22nd,  upon  the  banks  of  American  River,  about  30 
miles  from  here,  Jack  O'Brien  and  Frank  Hensen  found  Hall 
lying  on  a  bunch  of  willows,  wrapped  in  his  blankets,  weak 
and  exhausted  in  the  last  throes  of  starvation.  He  had  sub- 
sisted on  a  pound  of  bacon,  and  a  few  crackers,  and  what  berries 
and  roots  he  could  find  for  sixty-seven  days.  Nothing  like 
such  vitality  and  dogged  perseverance  in  a  fight  for  life  has 
been  chronicled  in  the  history  of  this  country 's  privations. 

Hall  told  your  correspondent  the  story  of  his  pilgrimage  in 
the  shadow  of  death  in  such  a  simple  and  straightforward 
manner  that  one  could  hardly  believe  he  could  have  passed 
through  so  great  a  struggle  and  still  retain  so  gentle  a  disposi- 
tion and  kindly  address.  He  was  not  embittered  with  life. 

On  July  17th,  Attorney  Hall,  in  company  with  Dr.  Vincent 
and  G.  P.  Hall,  formerly  of  the  A.  C.  Company,  was  sent  out  by 
Tom  and  Will  Wilson  from  old  Teller  to  locate  a  quartz  ledge 
known  to  Dr.  Vincent  to  be  situated  about  fifty  miles  back  of 
old  Teller.  Dr.  Vincent  had  the  dying  statement  of  a  prospector 
who  claimed  he  had  found  all  kinds  of  gold  some  years  ago. 
On  the  second  day  out,  Hall  and  Vincent  left  Attorney  Hall 
on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  not  waiting  for  him  to  catch  up,  and 
descended  to  a  stream  to  the  north.  Attorney  Hall  reached 
the  top  about  fifteen  minutes  later,  and,  not  finding  his  com- 
panions, spread  out  his  blankets  and  passed  the  night  on  the 
peak.  He  never  saw  his  companions  again. 

Hall  and  Vincent  returned  to  old  Teller  two  days  later  and 
told  how  they  had  lost  Attorney  Hall  in  the  mountains.  Tom 
and  Will  Wilson  formed  two  rescuing  parties  and  searched  all 
over  the  country  in  vain  for  Attorney  Hall,  and  finally  gave 
him  up  as  lost.  Hall  and  Dr.  Vincent  did  not  join  the  rescn ing- 
party,  saying  they  were  too  tired  to  go. 

Attorney  Hall,  with  about  a  pound  of  bacon  and  five  crack- 
ers, traveled  for  one  week,  a  lost  man  wandering  among  the 
mountains  and  in  the  soft  and  swampy  tundra  off  Kotzebue 
Sound.  He  tried  to  retrace  his  steps,  and  struggled  along  sub- 
sisting on  berries,  roots  and  grasses  until  he  reached  a  branch 
of  the  American  River.  At  last  he  became  exhausted  and  lay 
down  to  die  on  Sept.  18th.  He  could  no  longer  drag  or  crawl 
along  in  search  of  help.  On  the  night  of  Sept.  21st  he  felt  his 
stomach  collapse  and  sink  back  against  his  spine.  His  suffer- 
ings were  excruciating.  Dazed,  and  ready  to  die,  he  heard  a 


78  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OP  GOLD 

shot  and  made  one  more  effort  for  sweet  life.  Henson  was  fol- 
lowing a  flock  of  ptarmigans,  and  had  missed  a  bird.  He  heard 
the  call  for  help  and  approached.  Hall  raised  his  head  feebly 
and  begged  for  something  to  eat.  He  said  he  was  starving. 
For  the  first  time  he  wept  at  the  joy  of  his  delivery.  0  'Brien 
gave  him  a  small  piece  of  bacon  and  some  potatoes  warmed  by 
a  fire.  Henson  rushed  out  on  the  hills  in  search  of  a  bird  to 
make  broth,  but  was  unsuccessful.  O'Brien  and  Henson  then 
strapped  Hall  to  their  horse  and  took  him  to  their  camp  and 
tent  seven  miles  away  where  Frank  Henry  and  William 
Clinton,  partners  of  O'Brien  and  Henson,  were  located.  They 
left  their  camp,  the  second  day,  after  Hall  had  gained  more 
strength.  He  begged  piteously  for  solid  food,  but  his  new 
companions  only  fed  him  broth  and  liquids  in  order  to  save 
his  life.  He  was  taken  to  the  coast  on  the  horse,  and  brought 
here  by  boat.  The  Wilson  Brothers  have  done  all  they  can  for 
his  welfare  and  care,  and  he  is  now  rapidly  recovering  his 
health  and  strength. 

Attorney  Hall  came  to  Nome  on  the  Thrasher,  and  two  weeks 
later  went  to  Port  Clarence,  being  one  of  the  first  residents  of 
old  Teller.  He  practiced  law  in  San  Francisco  and  was  for- 
merly associated  with  Attorneys  C.  W.  Cross,  Tirey  L.  Ford 
and  Frank  P.  Kelly.  He  was  born  in  Monterey  County,  Cal- 
ifornia, November  9,  1857,  served  in  the  California  Legislature 
of  1889-90,  and  was  District  Attorney  for  Santa  Cruz  County 
in  1883-4.  The  people  of  Teller  will  see  that  he  is  looked 
after  and  when  he  opens  a  law  office  he  will  be  engaged  by 
many  clients  who  wish  to  show  their  interest  in  his  prosperity. 
The  most  pathetic  part  of  his  story  was  that  pertaining  to  his 
matches,  which  he  carefully  counted  each  day,  hoping  that 
they  would  last  to  build  fires  as  long  as  the  spark  of  life  could 
be  maintained  in  his  emaciated  body.  Attorney  Hall  is  6  feet 
ll/2  inches  in  height,  and  weighed  225  pounds  before  his  ex- 
perience, losing  fully  100  pounds  in  his  sixty-seven  days'  fast. 
The  only  implement  he  had  was  a  surgeon's  knife,  and  with  a 
safety  pin  he  made  a  hook  and  tried  to  catch  fish,  but  with- 
out success." 

The     reader  will   notice    that   this    paper    uses    the    name 
American  Eiver,  while  I  call  it  the   Agiapuk.     Since   I   was 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  79 

found    the  name  has  been  changed  from  the  former  to  the 
latter,  by  order  of  the  U.  S.  District  Court. 

The  San  Francisco  Examiner,  the  largest  daily  on  the  Pa- 
cific Coast,  contained  the  following  in  its  issue  of  Oct.  25th, 
1900: 

"SAVED    FROM    DEATH    ON    AN    ARCTIC     TRAIL- 
ATTORNEY  JAMES  A.  HALL  OF  THIS  CITY  RES- 
CUED WHEN  HIS  LIFE  WAS  PASSING  IN  A 
STORM  SWEEPING  NOME. 


For  Over  Two  Months  He  Wandered  Through  the  Snow  and 

Subsisted  on  Bacon,  Crackers  and  Roots — Rescuers 

Find  Him  After  He  Had  Given  Up  Hope  of  Escaping 

From  the  Perils  of  the  Snow-bound  Country. 


(Special  Dispatch  to  the  tk  Examiner.") 

SEATTLE,  Wash.,  Oct.  25.— James  A.  Hall,  an  attorney  who 
lived  at  San  Francisco,  was  rescued  from  death  by  Frank 
Henson  and  "Jack"  O'Brien,  two  big-hearted  Nome  nnners. 

These  men  found  Hall  wrapped  in  his  blankets  and  lying  in 
a  bunch  of  willows  on  the  banks  of  the  American  River,  in  the 
Teller  City  district.  For  sixty-seven  days  he  had  wandered 
in  the  mountains  back  of  Xome,  lost  and  bewildered.  His 
grub  stake  consisted  of  a  pound  of  bacon  and  a  few  dozen 
crackers.  With  these  articles  of  food,  and  such  berries  and 
roots  as  he  could  find,  he  subsisted  for  over  two  months. 

The  rescuers  found  him  Sept.  22nd,  and  they  assert  that  such 
dogged  perseverance  and  vitality  in  a  fight  for  life  have  never 
been  equalled  in  the  history  of  the  thousands  who  have 
searched  for  fortune  in  the  northland. 

Hall's  pilgrimage  in  the  shadow  of  death  commenced  July 
17th.  He  was  out  with  Dr.  Vincent  and  G.  P.  Hall  (not  a  re- 
lation), in  an  endeavor  to  locate  a  quartz  ledge  fifty  miles  back 
of  Teller.  On  the  second  day  out,  Vincent  and  G.  P.  Hall  left 
the  attorney  on  top  of  a  mountain,  not  waiting  for  him  to 
<-at<-h  up.  and  descended  in  a  northerly  direction.  G.  P.  Hall 
returned  to  Teller  two  days  later  and  told  how  they  had  lost 
Attorney  Hall  in  the  mountains.  Tom  and  Will  Wilson  organ- 


80  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

ized  two  rescuing  parties  and  searched  all  over  the  country  in 
vain  for  the  lost  man. 

For  weeks  the  lost  man  traveled  about  the  mountains  and  in 
the  soft  and  swampy  tundra  of  Kotzebue  sound  on  the  Arctic. 
He  tried  to  retrace  his  steps  and  finally  reached  a  branch  of 
the  American  Eiver  where  on  September  18th  he  threw  him- 
self on  the  ground  to  die. 

The  men  who  found  him  took  him  to  Teller,  where  he  was 
being  cared  for  with  chances  of  recovery,  when  the  San  Pedro 
sailed.  Hall  had  been  professionally  associated  with  Senator 
C.  W.  Cross,  Tirey  L.  Ford,  the  present  Attorney  General,  and 
Frank  P.  Kelly. 

*  *  *  *  *  *****  ***** 

CHAPTER  VI. 
A  TERRIBLE  WINTER. 

For  one  month  I  lay  on  my  back  in  my  bunk,  near  a  hot  stove. 
At  the  end  of  that  time  I  was  able  to  walk  across  the  floor  by 
holding  on  to  the  wall. 

I  will  never  forget  the  first  solid  meal  I  was  allowed  to  eat. 
It  consisted  of  reindeer  steak  and  potatoes.  To  describe  the 
enjoyment  of  that  meal  is  beyond  my  power.  It  was  "as 
nectar  fit  for  the  gods ' '.  I  could  not  eat  often  enough.  Meals 
were  one  dollar  each  and  my  appetite  soon  knocked  a  big  hole 
in  what  little  money  I  had  left.  A  few  days  after  I  had  been 
brought  in,  I  noticed  that  my  feet  were  badly  swollen.  They 
had  been  frozen  on  that  terrible  trip  through  the  snow,  over 
the  mountains,  tied  to  a  pack  horse.  The  swelling  did  not 
abate  during  the  long,  long  winter.  In  about  a  month,  large 
sores  began  to  break  out  all  over  the  frozen  portion  of  my 
lower  extremities,  from  the  knees  down.  I  frequently  had  as 
many  as  twenty-five  large  running  ulcers  on  my  legs  at  one 
time.  Dr.  Bates,  my  physician,  kept  burning  them  out  with 
nitrate  of  silver  pencils  to  heal  them.  The  pain  of  this  was 
excruciating,  in  my  feeble  condition,  and  often  I  would 
send  a  friend  to  get  morphine  tricherates  for  me  when  I  ex- 
pected the  doctor.  Luckily,  I  did  not  contract  the  " habit ". 
The  cause  of  these  sores  was  explained  by  my  medical  attend- 


JAMES  A.  HALL,  ON  OCT.  IST,  1900,  AFTER  THE  LONGEST  FAST  ON  RECORD 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  83 

ant.  He  said  that  the  freezing  destroyed  all  the  little  blood 
vessels  that  carried  the  blood  to  the  surface  of  the  skin.  This 
lack  of  nourishment  caused  the  skin  to  rot.  There  was  very 
little  nutriment  in  the  frozen,  canned  goods,  which  was  about 
the  only  food  we  could  get  in  this  rough  mining  camp.  Con- 
sequently I  had  no  chance  to  build  up  my  system,  so  was  not 
relieved  from  these  sores  until  I  reached  the  "States,"  about 
a  year  after  I  was  found  dying.  The  scars  left  by  this  experi- 
ence will  probably  go  with  me  to  the  grave. 

The  first  legal  case  I  had  after  I  was  able  to  hobble  around 
was  one  in  which  a  man  was  arrested  for  locating  a  lot  in  the 
middle  of  a  street  and  moving  a  house  on  it.  It  was  disputed 
that  the  street  had  been  regularly  laid  out,  but  the  resident 
Deputy  United  States  Marshal  swore  to  a  complaint  against 
him.  He  was  arrested  and  placed  in  the  U.  S.  jail,  which,  by 
the  way,  did  service  also  as  a  morgue  and  hospital.  The  camp 
was  equally  divided  on  the  question.  Finally  we  secured  a 
jury,  and  after  considerable  conflicting  evidence,  the  case  was 
ready  for  argument.  It  was  the  first  and  only  time  in  my 
twenty  years  of  law  practice  that  I  ever  addressed  the  jury, 
sitting.  We  got  a  verdict  of  "not  guilty"  and  the  partisans 
of  the  defendant  picked  up  the  chair  on  which  I  was  seated 
and  carried  me  downstairs  and  up  the  street. 

About  this  time  the  largest  building  in  the  town  was  finished. 
I  moved  into  one  of  the  rooms  and  thereafter  occupied  it  as 
law  office  and  bed  room.  I  was  still  so  weak  I  could  only 
hobble  along  with  the  assistance  of  a  cane. 

The  snow  was  from  ten  to  twenty  feet  deep  around  us  and 
for  months  it  was  dark  most  of  the  twenty-four  hours.  I 
never  dreamed  that  it  was  possible  for  time  to  pass  so  slowly. 
The  building  was  a  two-story  one  and  contained  a  large  saloon 
and  gambling  house.  These  saloons  were  headquarters  for  all 
the  miners,  as  there  was  always  a  large  fire  in  them,  although 
coal  was  a  hundred  dollars  a  ton  that  winter.  Those  that  were 
not  playing  at  some  of  the  numerous  gambling  games,  sat 
around  the  fire  and  discussed  the  various  mining  prospects  of 
the  country  and  other  matters  of  interest. 

These  persons  that  habitually  sat  around  the  fire  were  known 
as  "chair- warmers".  Through  the  floor  I  could  hear  their 
various  discussions  all  day  long. 

I  will  never  forget   one   old   gentleman   I   met    that  lonelv 


84  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

winter.  He  was  known  as  ' '  Captain. ' '  Nearly  all  the  men  in 
this  country  were  nnder  fifty  years  of  age,  but  the  Captain  was 
over  three  score.  He  was  a  walking  encyclopedia  and  could 
give  you  accurate  information  on  almost  any  subject.  I 
noticed  that  the  old  Captain  had  the  asthma  very  badly  and  as 
the  dreary  winter  wore  along  he  grew  worse  and  worse. 
Finally,  as  some  signs  of  spring  began  to  approach,  we  missed 
the  grizzled  face  from  his  accustomed  chair  around  the  stove 
for  several  days  at  a  time.  Upon  his  return  he  would  tell  us 
how  near  to  death's  door  he  had  been.  One  day  along  about 
the  last  of  May,  1901,  a  friend  of  the  Captain's  fell  danger- 
ously sick  and  he  volunteered  to  sit  up  with  him.  The  patient 
was  almost  unconscious  and  unable  to  move  and  it  was  neces- 
sary to  give  him  his  medicine  at  stated  intervals.  Those  that 
called  at  the  shack  the  next  morning  found  the  Captain  stiff 
in  death  on  the  floor  and  the  patient  about  to  breathe  his  last. 

We  had  all  become  very  much  attached  to  the  old  man 
and  his  funeral  was  indeed  a  sad  one.     The  ceremonies  were 
held  in  a  room  adjoining  a  saloon,  but  as  a  matter  of  respect 
the  door  between  the  two  was  securely  locked. 

A  carpenter  had  made  a  coffin  from  some  pine  boards  and 
it  was  covered  with  the  most  suitable  cloth  that  could  be  found 
in  the  camp — a  kind  of  polka  dot,  if  I  remember  correctly.  • 

Around  that  bier  stood  the  little  crowd  of  us  that  had  passed 
the  long,  long  winter  together.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
from  the  time  the  last  boat  left,  early  in  November,  we  had 
been  in  prison,  as  it  were.  Nobody  could  get  out  of  Alaska 
and  nobody  could  get  in.  There  we  stood,  the  coffin  in  the 
center  of  the  room,  and  the  motley  throng  of  mourners  press- 
ing close  upon  it.  At  the  head  of  the  coffin  a  miner-preacher 
gave  us  a  short  sermon.  His  audience  was  certainly  a  cos- 
mopolitan one — merchants,  miners,  gamblers,  two  or  three 
respectable  wives  and  two  or  three  wives  that  were  not  respect- 
able, saloonkeepers,  Government  officials  and  a  half  dozen 
curious  Eskimos. 

When  the  services  were  finished,  willing  hands  lifted  the 
coffin  to  a  sled  just  outside  the  door,  on  the  snow,  and  eight 
dogs  slid  the  poor  old  Captain  into  his  frozen  grave,  far  from 
the  home  of  his  younger  manhood  and  thousands  of  miles  from 
a  loving  wife  and  family. 

Such  scenes  as  this  were  particularly  sad  for  me  because 


DR.  U.  C.  BATES  AND  CHARLES  WILSON 


OR,  THE   WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  87 

on  a  number  of  occasions  I  had  overheard  remarks  made  by 
one  miner  to  another,  as  I  hobbled  by,  that  "that  man  can  not 
possibly  live  the  winter  through. " 

As  feeble  as  I  was,  I  managed  to  assist  my  physician  in  two 
capital  and  many  minor  surgical  operations.  The  first  of  these 
was  on  a  young  man  named  Charlie  Wilson.  He  had  been  out 
prospecting  and  when  he  returned  to  within  a  mile  of  his 
shack  felt  himself  freezing.  It  was  snowing  heavily,  but  he 
could  see  the  smoke  curling  up  from  his  stove  pipe  and  tried 
his  best  to  get  home.  He  became  so  weak  and  dazed  that  he 
fell  down  on  his  knees  and  crawled  to  within  a  number  of  yards 
of  his  abode.  Here  he  was  found  by  friends,  who  took  him 
at  once  to  Dr.  Bates,  the  physician  who  was  attending  me. 
It  chanced  that  he  was  placed  in  a  room  next  to  mine.  The 
doctor  discovered  that  all  of  his  extremities  were  frozen,  his 
feet  were  in  such  a  bad  condition  that  it  was  found  necessary 
to  amputate  both  of  them  immediately.  I  had  had  consider- 
able experience  in  hospital  work  and  was  requested  to  assist 
in  the  operation;  a  capital  amputation,  even  of  a  single  limb, 
is  very  dangerous  at  any  time  and  particularly  so  in  a  rough 
mining  camp,  where  nothing  is  aceptic  and  the  apparatus  very 
crude. 

There  was  no  fire  or  place  for  a  fire  in  this  rough  room  and 
the  thermometer  was  toying  with  the  zero  mark. 

The  operating  table  consisted  of  some  old  boards,  fastened 
together.  In  fact,  the  surgeon  was  handicapped  in  every  way. 
Charlie  was  game,  though,  and  ten  minutes  before  he  began 
to  take  the  chloroform,  was  chatting  pleasantly  with  us.  As 
soon  as  he  was  sufficiently  under,  the  first  cut  was  made.  1 
had  seen  hundreds  of  operations,  but  never  one  in  which  I 
hated  to  see  the  first  incision  as  much  as  I  did  here.  The  sur- 
rounding circumstances,  the  affable  nature  of  the  young  man, 
the  distance  from  relatives  and  old  friends,  all  made  it  a  pit- 
eous sight.  It  took  nearly  three  hours  to  take  off  both  legs, 
just  below  the  knees.  He  rallied  from  the  shock  and  in  about 
two  months  was  lifting  himself  along  with  his  arms  and  stubs. 

A  few  weeks  afterward  we  cut  off  both  hands  of  another 
man.  He  had  been  out  with  his  dog  team,  twenty  miles,  to 
what  was  called  the  "Spit"  (the  place  where  I  landed  off  the 
Thrasher),  after  drift  wood.  The  mercury  showed  twenty-five 


88  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

below,  but  lie  was  well  prepared  and  had  returned  safely  back 
to  within  a  couple  of  miles  of  Teller. 

His  hands  becoming  a  little  numb,  he  took  off  his  "mits" 
to  rub  them  together.  The  very  moment  he  took  off  the  gloves, 
his  fists  clenched,  automatically,  and  he  could  not  open  them 
again. 

He  managed  to  kick  the  dogs  loose  and  their  wonderful 
sagacity  is  told  of  in  another  part  of  this  book. 

Though  a  large,  strong  man,  this  fellow  soon  began  to  stagger 
like  a  drunkard  as  he  struggled  homeward.  At  the  edge  of  the 
camp  several  persons  saw  him,  but  thought  he  was  under  the 
influence  of  liquor.  His  mind  seemed  to  wander  and  he  was 
not  able  to  tell  them  his  troubles. 

A  few  days  afterwards  we  took  off  both  hands,  near  the 
wrists.  This  man  did  not  have  the  genial,  affable  temper  that 
Charlie  Wilson  had. 

As  sick  as  I  was,  myself,  I  sat  up  with  him,  in  his  cold  shack, 
through  three  long  winter  nights.  The  snow  was  deep,  the 
thermometer  low  and  the  patient  "cranky".  Nobody  could 
please  him,  although  our  services  were  gratis.  I  never  saw 
men  so  different  in  dispositions  as  were  these  two  patients. 

Slowly,  oh  so  slowly,  signs  of  spring  began  to  appear!  We 
were  waiting  for  the  ice  to  go  out  in  order  that  communication 
might  be  again  opened  up  with  the  outside  world.  The  long 
looked  for  event  happened  on  July  2d.  For  weeks  the  ice 
had  been  rotting,  which  caused  many  unfortunate  accidents. 

One  man  was  driving  a  fine  large  team  of  horses,  attached 
to  a  sled,  over  the  ice,  a  few  days  before  the  grand  breakup. 
He  struck  a  particularly  rotten  place  and  down  went  team  and 
sled,  the  owner  barely  escaping,  by  falling  backward  out  of 
the  sled.  As  these  animals  were  the  only  ones  in  that  part  of 
Alaska,  and  had  been  brought  in  at  great  expense,  his  loss  was 
very  heavy. 

When  at  last  the  ice  had  gone  out  and  the  "cheechako" 
(new  arrival)  had  come  in,  "there  was  something  doing  every 
minute ' ',  as  the  slang  has  it. 

The  visitor  was  after  gold  dust,  and  so  was  the  * l  sour  dough ' ' 

(a  man  who  has  seen  the  ice  go  out  of  the  Bering  Sea  for  two 

successive  seasons).     The  sour  dough  had  "staked"  almost 

every  square  foot  of  ground  in  that  part  of  the  country.     The 

cheechako,  whenever  he  .saw  a  good  looking  piece  of  mineral 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  89 

land,  would  jump  it.  Only  about  one-half  of  these  disputes 
were  ever  carried  as  far  as  the  courts.  The  shotgun  or  Win- 
chester generally  settled  the  trouble.  The  same  rule  held  good 
on  town  lots. 

Teller,  as  I  have  said  before,  was  located  or  rather  moved  to 
its  present  site,  about  a  month  after  I  started  on  my  fearful 
trip  from  old  Teller. 

The  place  was  laid  out  on  a  gravelly  beach  and  the  scramble 
for  lots  began.  Some  secured  a  half  dozen  and  .some  were  un- 
able to  get  any.  The  fellow  that  had  several  lots  had  to  get 
a  tenant  for  each  lot,  because  possession  was  not  only  "nine 
points  of  the  law*'— but  ten. 

This  state  of  affairs  existed  during  the  whole  nine  months 
of  winter.  There  were  many  fights,  legal  and  fistic,  over  lots. 
My  partner  had  been  one  of  the  original  locators  of  the  town, 
having  moved  over  from  old  Teller  with  the  rush. 

He  had  located  a  lot  the  value  of  which,  in  the  open  market, 
was  several  hundred  dollars.  One-half  of  this  was,  of  course, 
mine.  He  went  out  on  the  last  boat,  leaving  the  lot  with  me 
and  expecting  to  return  in  the  spring.  I  was  too  feeble  to 
erect  a  shack  on  it,  consequently  it  was  not  held  possessio 
pedis. 

Everybody  in  the  camp  knew  the  terrible  experience  I  had 
had,  so  through  sympathy  my  lot  was  left  unmolested  for 
many  months. 

Finally,  one  fellow,  a  man  who  had  a  lot  adjoining  mine, 
allowed  his  greed  to  get  the  better  of  his  sympathy  and  my  lot 
was  jumped.  Many  of  my  friends  tried  to  shame  him  out  of 
it,  but,  although  I  think  he  was  really  ashamed  of  himself,  he 
still  kept  it. 

I  had  one  satisfaction,  however,  for  when  spring  opened 
and  the  mines  did  not  turn  out  as  well  as  expected,  the  bottom 
dropped  out  of  the  market  and  lots  that  had  been  held  at  many 
hundreds  of  dollars,  sold  for  twenty-five  or  thirty.     He  had 
kept  this,  expecting  a  big  price,  but  received  nothing. 

AVhen  the  spring  sun  began  to  melt  the  snow,  many  bodies 
of  people  who  had  been  lost,  were  found.  In  this  country 
everybody  is  a  stranger  to  everybody  else.  If  a  man  starts  out 
to  go  from  Teller  to  Nome,  "over  the  trail",  and  is  lost  in  the 
snow,  there  is  nobody  to  inquire  whether  he  arrives  safely 
at  his  destination  or  not. 


90  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

During  the  winter,  the  whole  country,  as  said  heretofore, 
was  staked.  They  drove  the  stakes  down  into  the  snow, 
regardless  of  the  law  that  a  discovery  of  gpld  must  be  made  on 
a  claim  before  it  can  be  legally  located.  Several  of  these  pros- 
pectors were  kind  enough  to  stake  claims  for  me,  some  in  very 
promising  localities.  Although  I  had  been  in  bed  a  good 
portion  of  the  winter,  I  had  about  fourteen  claims  when  spring 
came. 

After  the  first  boats  arrived  there  was  considerable  activity 
and  I  had  hopes  of  selling  my  mining  interests,  but  like  the 
ignus  fatuus,  the  sale  was  always  just  ahead  of  me.  Finally,  as 
the  summer  passed  along,  I  determined  to  leave  everything  and 
get  back  to  the  "States".  I  sailed  from  Teller  on  the  good 
ship  Centennial,  August  26th,  1901,  for  Seattle,  arriving  there 
safely  after  a  stormy  trip  of  nine  days. 

At  last  I  was  able  to  get  fresh  meats  and  vegetables  and  in 
the  week  spent  there,  before  sailing  for  my  old  home  in  Cali- 
fornia, I  gained  many  pounds.  The  terrible  sores  that  had 
covered  my  frozen  legs  and  feet  began  to  disappear  and  I 
commenced  to  feel  like  my  old  self  again. 

After  I  had  been  home  a  few  months  I  learned  that  one  of 
the  mines  that  had  been  staked  for  me  during  the  winter  and 
which  I  had  abandoned  when  I  left  there,  was  afterward  sold 
for  several  thousand  dollars. 

One  of  my  greatest  regrets  is  that  my  dear  old  father  died 
at  the  age  of  eighty-two  years,  while  I  was  gone  and  I  would 
have  given  much  to  have  seen  him  and  let  him  see  me  after  he 
had  mourned  me  for  dead  many  months. 

One  day  I  had  been  sitting,  for  several  hours,  hearing  the 
trial  of  a  lot  case  in  which  I  had  been  chosen  arbitrator,  when 
the  news  came  that  the  mail  had  arrived.  As  we  only  got  mail 
about  once  a  month,  Court  was  immediately  adjourned  and  we 
all  proceeded  to  the  Postoffice.  Here  I  found  the  letter  that 
told  me  the  sad  news,  and,  strangest  of  all,  it  gave  me  the  sec- 
ond verification  of  mental  telepathy  I  had  received  while  in 
Alaska.  The  letter  informed  me  that  my  father  had  died  on 
February  4th,  1901,  about  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  On  that 
very  date,  as  I  lay  in  my  bunk,  I  was  awakened  at  three  in  the 
morning,  by  what  seemed  to  be  the  voice  of  my  younger  sister 
saying  to  me,  "Father  is  dying,  father  is  dying."  It  made  a 
very  deep  impression  and  I  could  not  get  over  the  feeling  for 


OR,   THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  91 

several  days.  The  difference  in  time  between  the  two  places 
is  three  hours.  My  sister  afterwards  told  me  that  when  she 
saw  father  was  dying  she  thought  of  me,  in  that  distant  land. 

I  now  feel  no  evil  effects  from  my  strenuous  ordeal,  except 
that  my  feet  sometimes  get  very  feverish  after  a  long  walk.  My 
doctor  warned  me  that  this  would  last  for  years. 

Upon  my  return  to  San  Francisco  the  Examiner  published  a 
full  page  Sunday  story  of^my  experience. 

In  that  article  there  was  an  interview  with  Dr.  Edwin  Bun- 
nell,  who  was  then  the  Chief  Surgeon  of  the  City  Receiving 
Hospital  of  that  place.  Dr.  Bunnell  stands  at  the  head  of  his 
profession.  In  closing  this  chapter  I  will  quote  his  language: 

"MOST  EXTRAORDINARY  CASE  I  EVER  HEARD  OF." 

By  Edwin  Bunnell,   M.   D.,   Chief   Surgeon  of  the   Receiving 

Hospital. 

The  survival  of  Mr.  Hall  is  not  only  the  most  extraordinary 
case  that  has  come  under  my  observation— it  is  the  most  extra- 
ordinary I  ever  heard  of.  Undoubtedly  the  secret  of  his  com- 
ing through  such  an  experience  alive  is  the  strength  of  his 
nervous  system.  He  possessed  will  power  to  an  extraordinary 
degree  and  used  rare  judgment  in  conserving  his  physical 
force,  but  then,  Hall  is  an  educated  man,  and  brought  his  in- 
tellect to  bear  upon  the  situation.  I  should  say  that  two  things 
saved  him — will'  power  and  water.  Physicians  recognize  the 
aid  to  them  that  mental  force  and  a  firm  will  can  give.  Place 
two  patients  side  by  side,  suffering  with  the  same  disease,  their 
chances  for  recovery  equal,  and  the  patient  possessing  the  will 
to  live  recovers,  while  the  other  dies. 

There  have  been  numerous  instances  of  remarkable  fasting, 
but  none  like  this.  The  case  of  Tanner  and  other  so-called 
starvers  are  not  a  parallel  at  all.  Hall  was  exposed  to  the 
elements  in  their  worst  form  and  he  was  in  a  perilous  predica- 
ment at  all  times  while  they  had  every  comfort  they  wanted 
but  solid  food.  To  me  the  physical  aspect  of  Hall 's  case  is  not 
so  amazing  as  his  mental  soundness  after  what  he  had  gone 
through.  Most  men  go  crazy  after  a  few  days  of  hunger  and 
exposure.  Hall  retained  his  mental  poise  perfectly  after 
sixty-seven  days  of  wandering  in  an  icy  desert/' 


92 


STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 


(Dedicated  to  my   friend,    James    A.  Hall,    who    made  the 
longest  fast  ever  recorded.) 

1  'TOMBSTONE  BILL"  PASSES  THE  BUCK." 


I'm  an  Arizona  bad  man, 

My  name  is  Tombstone  Bill, 

I'm  right  there  in  a  show-down 
And  I  alwuz  shoot  to  kill. 

Go  ask  Long  Pete  of  Bisbee 
Who  filled  him  full  of  lead, 

And   why   Pichaco    Charley    • 
Is  numbered  with  the  dead. 

In  Final  and  Maricopa, 

Quite  broadcast  is  my  fame, 

And  many  a  heap  that's  cross-crowned 
Commemorates  my  name. 

Once  in  the  Harqua  Halla, 
Close  by  the   Granite  Hill, 

Eight  Apaches  'round  me  gathered, 
Fur  to  scalp  your  Uncle  Bill. 

With  a  quick  manipulation, 

My   guns  I  did  unstrap — 
Not  one  of  them  wuz  missin' 

At  the  finish  of  the  scrap. 

In  many  a  noted  instance 
I've  been  up  against  it  hard, 

But  a  feller  down  from  Teller 
Holds  a  somewhat  stiffer  card.    - 

And  though  I've  tagged  a  burro 

From  Yuma  to  the  rim, 
I  pass  the  buck  with  plezhur 

To  my  friend,  Alaska  Jim. 

I  claim  him  as  no  fighter, 

Nor  that  he  got  his  man; 
He  wuz  only  a  prospector, 

With  his  horn-spoon  and  his  pan. 

He  blind-trailed  in  the  ice-fields, 
Where  the  sky-fires  flash  and  glow 

And  great  white  b'ars  in  hunger 
Prowled  hunting  thro'  the  snow. 


Nigh  three  straight  months  he  fasted 
With  no  liquor  in  his  hide, 

Had  it  a'been  your  uncle, 
I  shorely  would  a'died. 

I've  eaten  chip-broiled  mule  meat 
And  partook  of  jerked  coyot', 

Chawed  the  pulp  of  borel-cactus 
That  would  kill  a  Pima  goat. 

I  have  chased  the  Chuckawalla 
When  my  grub  was  gettin'  slim, 

But  I  pass  the  buck  for  trouble 
To  my  friend,  Alaska  Jim. 

Oh,  I've  hit  the  silent  desert, 
Where  the  Colorado  flows, 

Where  the  Needles  raise  their  turrets 
And  the  thorny  Yucca  grows. 

Where  the  burning  Chimehuevis 
Hide  their  stores  of  wealth  untold, 

Full  patiently  I've  wandered 
In  lone  pursuit  of  gold. 

Through  rock-strewn  Coconino 
My  weary  feet  have  strayed, 

And  with  the  grim  side-winder 
I  oft  in  sleep  have  laid. 

I  sartin  am  a  tough  one, 

Where  such  like  plenty  grow, 

And  a  noted  individual 
Wherever  I  may  go. 

But  'till  Satan  forks  your  Uncle, 

Across  the  fiery  brim, 
I'll  pass  the  buck,  by  thunder, 

To  my  friend,  Alaska  Jim. 

— Frank  V.  Gaffey,  in  Overland 
Monthly. 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  93 

CHAPTER  VII. 

TERRIBLE  EXPERIENCE  OF  THREE  PROSPECTORS, 

On  or  about  June  15th,  1901,  a  year  after  my  awful  experi- 
ence, three  men,  Georg  Dean,  Jack  Huston  and  Joseph  C. 
Thierry,  started  from  their  mining  camp  on  Clara  Creek,  a 
tributary  of  the  celebrated  Quartz  Rock  in  the  Good  Hope  min- 
ing district,  near  the  Arctic  coast,  to  return  to  Nome  via  the 
way  of  Teller.  It  will  be  remembered  that  this  is  the  same 
section  of  country  in  which  I  had  come  so  near  dying  as  de- 
tailed in  former  chapters  though  then  there  were  few 
prospectors  in  that  section  and  the  district  had  not  been  organ- 
ized. The  high  waters  of  the  various  streams  necessary  to  be 
crossed  on  their  way  to  Teller  delayed  the  party  until  the 
small  supply  of  food  on  hand  finally  gave  out.  They  were  then 
compelled  to  eke  out  an  existence  on  grass,  roots,  snails  and 
wild  goose  eggs  containing  half  formed  birds,  and  finally  the 
survivors  were  brought  face  to  face  with  cannibalism.  Joseph 
C.  Thierry,  who  seems  to  have  been  the  strongest  of  the  three, 
made  the  following  statement  a  few  hours  after  they  were 
found : 

"We  would  travel  for  twenty  hours  at  a  stretch,  and 
after  a  few  hours'  rest,  get  up  and  go  at  it  again.  When  we 
saw  Salt  Lake,  we  headed  for  that,  but  when  we  thought  we 
were  nearly  there,  we  came  to  deep  marshes  or  sloughs,  ten  to 
three  hundred  feet  wide  and  from,  ten  to  twenty  miles  long. 
Being  unable  to  cross  these,  we  started  back  for  the  Agiapuk 
River,  expecting  to  strike  it  farther  up  and  continue  down  the 
river  to  the  lake.  In  our  trip  back  to  the  river  we  came  to 
a  slough  that  extended  back  from  the  lake,  bench  upon  bench, 
for  at  least  twenty  miles  to  the  mountains. 

"Huston,  who  up  to  this  time  had  held  on  bravely,  gave  out 
and  asked  Dean  and  I  to  leave  him  to  either  get  assistance  or 
save  ourselves.  I  left  Dean  there  and  walked  to  the  top  of 
the  divide  about  five  miles  distant  from  which  I  could  see  the 
Agiapuk.  I  then  returned  and  helping  up  Huston,  whose  legs 
had  become  partially  paralyzed,  continued  our  tramp.  Dean, 
by  this  time,  had  become  so  weak  that  he  could  not  carry  the 
gun,  and  every  time  that  we  stopped  he  would  pitch  forward 
upon  his  face,  or  while  walking  would  fall  asleep  and  drop. 


94  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

"In  my  condition  it  would  take  a  mighty  effort  to  get  him  to 
walking.  Then  the  hallucination  seemed  to  take  possession  of 
him  that  he  was  a  drag  upon  the  party,  and  he  repeatedly 
asked  to  be  left  behind. 

"We  came  to  another  slough  about  fifteen  feet  wide.  The 
boys  had  not  strength  enough  left  to  attempt  to  go  around  it, 
so  I  built  a  bridge  of  willows  and  our  six  pack  straps,  and 
one  at  a  time  I  got  them  over. 

"After  following  down  the  Agiapuk  for  thirty  or  forty  mile^, 
we  arrived  opposite  the  lower  village.  I  left  the  boys  here 
and  went  down  the  river  two  miles  where  I  came  to  a  slough 
that  I  knew  could  not  be  crossed,  but  I  found  a  little  igloo 
about  six  feet  in  diameter,  where  I  brought  the  boys  and  made 
camp. 

"While  at  this  igloo  we  could  hear  shots  every  night,  but 
could  not  locate  the  direction  from  which  the  sounds  came. 
I  found  a  rope  of  three  strands  ten  feet  long,  and  with  this  and 
several  logs  made  a  raft  with  which  I  intended  to  cross  the 
river  and  procure  help  from  the  village.  After  building  my 
raft  I  found  that  it  would  not  sustain  my  weight,  so  I  had  to 
give  up  the  idea  of  crossing.  Later  I  found  an  Indian  corpse 
rolled  in  a  light  canvas  about  fifteen  by  twenty  feet  in  size 
from  which  I  made  a  boat  eight  feet  in  length  by  four  in 
width.  It  was  too  rotten  to  hold  me  up,  and  I  was  nearly 
drowned  trying  to  row  it.  But  the  boat  subsequently  saved 
our  lives  as  it  was  that  which  attracted  the  attention  of  our 
rescuers. 

"About  five  days  before  we  were  found,  Dean  asked  me  to 
write  a  statement  which  he  wished  to  dictate  and  which  I  did. 
Dean  had  seemed  to  be  reviving  physically,  with  rest,  but  he 
was  still  laboring  under  the  delusion  that  he  was  in  the  way, 
and  begged  me  to  shoot  him  and  put  him  out  of  his  misery. 
He  said  that  every  bone  in  his  body  ached  and  he  was  suffer- 
ing untold  agony.  He  suggested  to  us  that  with  his  flesh  we 
might  sustain  life  until  some  one  found  us. 

' '  The  following  day  I  found  a  partly  decomposed  ptarmigan, 
of  which  I  made  soup  and  a  stew,  dividing  it  equally  among 
us.  This  was  the  last  we  had  to  eat  until  we  were  found,  and 
the  following  day  I  almost  broke  down  myself. 

"The  night  of  the  19th  Huston  and  I  talked  the  matter  over, 


OR,   THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  95 

and  decided  that  unless  we  were  rescued  the  next  day  we  would 
act  upon  Dean 's  suggestion. 

"He  died  at  three  o'clock  the  next  morning  and,  (here 
Thierry's  voice  broke  down  and  he  wept)  at  eight  I  cut  a 
piece  from  his  thigh  about  three  inches  long  and  to  the  bone, 
and  after  removing  the  skin  and  outer  flesh  I  placed  it  in  the 
pot  to  boil.  AVe  decided  to  let  it  cook  at  least  two  hours,  and 
while  we  were  waiting  we  heard  a  voice.  I  immediately  said 
to  Huston  that  Dean  was  not  dead  and  was  talking  to  us.  He 
said  that  it  could  not  be,  and  I  looked  out  and  saw  two  men 
with  a  canoe,  whom  I  called  and  we  were  saved.  I  then  threw 
the  pot  and  its  contents  into  the  river  and  I  thank  God  that  I 
was  saved  from  this  last  extreme." 

Thierry,  so  his  living  companion  claims,  displayed  very 
heroic  qualities  in  the  treatment  of  his  weaker  companions. 
They  both  begged  him  to  go  on  and  leave  them  and  try  to  save 
himself.  This  he  refused  to  do,  saying  that  he  would  stay  with 
them  till  death,  if  necessary. 

They,  dying  and  dead,  were  found  on  the  morning  of  July 
20th,  1901,  on  the  Agiapuk  River,  about  ten  miles  up  from 
where  it  empties  into  Great  Salt  Lake,  by  two  miners,  Louis 
Reich  and  George  Woods.  Strange  to  say,  it  was  on  this 
river,  and  near  this  very  spot,  where  I  was  found  dying  nearly 
a  year  before,  by  Jack  0  'Brien  and  Frank  Henson,  two  young 
prospectors. 

Reich  and  AVood  were  rowing  up  the  Agiapuk  River  and  on 
a  sand  bar  at  one  side  saw  a  peculiar  looking  boat.  They 
stopped  to  examine  it  and  heard  a  faint  cry  of  "For  God's  sake 
don't  leave  us,  we  are  starving!" 

Upon  investigation  they  found  the  two  living  skeletons  and 
the  corpse. 

On  the  fire  near  at  hand  was  a  stew  of  human  flesh,  the 
pieces  being  about  the  size  of  those  in  ordinary  beef  stew. 
Thiefrry  at  once  emptied  the  can  when  he  saw  help  at  hand, 
and  asked  the  rescuers  if  they  had  any  food.  They  were  given 
something  light  to  eat,  and  then  conveyed  by  boat  to  Teller. 
Dr.  U.  C.  Bates  was  summoned  by  the  L^nited  States  Com- 
missioner, who  is  ex-officio  coroner,  to  accompany  him  to  the 
scene  of  death.  The  doctor  says  that  though  the  men  of  the 
coroner's  party  were  used  to  rough  scenes,  there  were  few  dry 
eyes  when  the  corpse  was  inspected.  There  lay  an  emaciated 


96  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

human  body,  partly  denuded  of  flesh  to  save  the  lives  of  other 
humans. 

The  body,  hair,  beard  and  sunken  eyes  were  covered  with 
vermin.  On  the  body  of  the  deceased  was  found  the  following 
documents.  As  appears  from  the  statement  of  Thierry,  these 
documents  were  written  by  him  at  the  dictation  of  the  de- 
ceased. It  also  appears  that  the  date  should  have  been  July 
15th,  instead  of  July  20th,  1901. 

"July  20th,  1901. 

"Finder  will  recognize  by  this  paper  the  body  of  Georg 
Dean  of  Canton,  Ohio,  U.  S.  A.,  who  with  his  two  companions, 
Jack  Huston  of  Nome  and  Jos.  C.  Thierry  of  Davenport,  Iowa, 
left  their  camp  on  Clara  Creek,  a  tributary  to  Quartz  Creek,  in 
the  Good  Hope  District,  with  the  intention  of  returning  to 
Nome  for  new  supplies.  Being  without  sufficient  food  and 
unable  to  find  anybody,  nor  could  we  cross  the  river,  we  were 
compelled  to  starve.  We  are  at  present  twenty-two  days 
away  from  camp. 

"Georg  Dean  is  a  Free  Mason  and  his  sincere  wish  is  to  have 
his  death  reported  to  the  lodge  at  Nome.  Proof  of  his  being  a 
member  can  be  found  at  the  Hiram  Lodge,  No.  26,  Canton,  Ohio. 
Also  like  to  have  my  family  notified  of  my  death  and  proof  sent 
home  of  my  being  deceased. 

"Address  of  my  wife,  Anna  Louise  Dean,  1000  Lafayette 
Street,  Canton,  Ohio. 

'  *  I  also  wish  the  Masons  to  take  charge  of  my  body  and  act 
as  they  think  best  with  it  to  dispose  of. 

Fraternally, 

GEOKG  DEAN, 
Canton,  Ohio." 

This  was  found  in  his  pocket,  written  with  an  indelible  pencil. 
In  the  same  pocket  in  common  black  pencil  was  found  a  short 
will: 

"I,  Georg  Dean,  born  in  London,  England,  25th  day  of 
January,  1850.  I  pray  the  Masonic  order  will  take  charge  of 
my  effects  that 'may  be  found  on  my  body  or  in  Nome  with 
the  exception  of  all  clothing  that  my  companion,  Joseph 
Thierry,  may  need  for  his  benefit,  he  being  the  one  that  has 
rendered  us  the  most  assistance  in  trying  to  save  our  lives 
by  building  a  boat  out  of  canvas  and  willows  which  he  found 
in  the  swamps,  as  I  feel  that  I  am  near  the  end  of  this  life, 


OR,  THE   WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  97 

I  pray  that  you  will  tell  my  wife  that  I  die  a  Christian,  and  that 
my  last  prayer  is  for  her  and  dear  family.     Goodbye,  friends. 

GEORG  DEAN. 

God's  will  be  done.     Amen." 

I  was  one  of  the  pall  bearers  at  the  funeral  of  Georg  Dean. 
The  remains  were  at  the  U.  S.  Jail  in  Teller.  The  two  sur- 
vivors were  quartered  at  the  same  place.  The  stronger  one  of 
the  two  requested  to  be  allowed  to  see  the  remains.  The  coffin 
was  placed  near  the  outside  door  of  the  jail  and  after  those 
who  wished  to  view  the  remains  had  passed,  the  wish  of  the 
survivor  was  gratified.  He  was  supported  to  the  side  of  the 
body  and  stood  in  deep  meditation  for  a  few  moments.  His 
feelings  overcame  him,  and  he  fell  back  into  the  arms  of  his 
supporters  in  a  dead  faint.  The  recollection  of  the  terrible 
experience  they  had  been  through  together  was  more  than  he 
could  bear. 

AYe  buried  Dean  in  the  little  lonely  graveyard  on  the 
hillside  near  Teller,  and,  dear  reader,  I  assure  you  there  were 
few  dry  eyes  in  that  crowd  of  rough,  but  good-hearted  miners. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE  ESKIMO. 

The  Eskimo  is  low  and  squatty  in  stature,  and  very  fre- 
quently bow-legged.  It  is  a  -common  theory  of  the  old  white 
residents  of  this  country  that  these  people  are  an  off-shoot  of 
the  Japanese  race,  changed  a  little  in  color  by  climatic  con- 
ditions. In  former  years,  so  the  old  traditions  say,  Bering 
Straits  were  frozen  over  almost  every  year.  In  these  times,  it 
only  happens  about  once  in  a  decade;  the  winter  of  1900-1  was 
the  first  time  in  years  that  this  lias  been  the  case. 

The  natives  of  the  eastern  Siberian  coast  are  even  more  like 
the  Japs  than  those  of  Northwestern  Alaska.  We  had  Jap- 
anese waiters  on  board  the  Thrasher,  and  one  day  at  Cape 
Prince  of  Wales,  a  number  of  natives  came  aboard,  and  we  all 
noticed  the  similarity  at  once.  Some  of  the  Eskimos  could 
talk  a  few  words  of  English.  I  asked  one  of  them  if  he  knew 
Avho  those  fellows  were;  quick  as  a  Hash  he  answered,  "Japs". 
There  really  seemed  t->  he  a  kind  of  fellow  feeling  between, 
them. 


98  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

The  natives  of  Alaska,  like  all  other  peoples,  iiave  their  good 
and  bad  traits  of  character;  yon  very  rarely  find  one  who  will 
lie  or  steal;  it  is  said  that  before  the  advent  of  the  whites  they 
were  absolutely  perfect  in  this  respect.  Again  they  are  gen- 
erons;  many  a  miner  owes  his  life  to  the  few  mouthful s  of 
"chow-chow"  (pronounced  cow-cow)  which  some  poor  native 
had  given  him,  retaining  less  for  himself  than  he  gave. 
Shortly  prior  to  this  writing,  a  U.  S.  Commissioner  told  me  that 
an  old  native — who,  by  the  way,  was  along  with  me  in  Teller 
at  the  time — had  a  few  days  before  gone  thirty-five  miles 
through  the  most  terrible  storm  Alaska  has  seen  in*  years  to 
get  food  to  keep  the  former  from  starving. 

The  parents  are  good  to  their  children,  and  will  deprive 
themselves  of  food  that  a  child  may  eat;  on  the  other  hand, 
the  native,  as  a  rule,  is  a  great  beggar.  His  plaintive  whine 
for  "cow-cow"  is  generally  granted  by  the  "sour  dough"  (old 
resident  of  the  country)  and  refused  by  the  "cheechako"  (new 
comer.)  The  former  perhaps  well  remembers  the  time  when 
some  native  divided  his  last  mess  with  him;  the  latter  has  not 
had  that  experience  yet. 

The  native  does  not  know  the  meaning  of  the  word  cleanliness; 
they  rarely  bathe,  and  "gray  backs"  are  as  thick  on  them  as 
fleas  on  a  California  mongrel.  Their  eglows  (native  houses) 
are  no  cleaner.  Eancid  seal  oil  seems  to  permeate  everything 
a  native  owns  or  has  anything  to  do  with,  lie,  himself,  reeks 
with  it.  It  seems  to  come  through  his  skin  like  beads  of  per- 
spiration. They  never  carry  a  handkerchief,  and  most  of 
them  are  afflicted  with  a  catarrhal  affection;  you  can  imagine 
how  disgusting  they  must  be  in  this  respect.  Virtue  is  un- 
known to  them.  Fear  of  a  beating  from  her  buck  or  her  squaw- 
man  sometimes  makes  a  native  woman  appear  virtuous.  They 
are  a  very  lazy  race;  the  men  never  work;  the  women  never, 
when  they  can  help  it;  the  bucks  make  them  do  all  the  work 
that  is  done,  however.  Sometimes  the  men  do  a  little  fishing 
or  hunting,  but  the  women  really  do  most  of  that,  especially 
fishing.  If  whisky  is  the  curse  of  some  white  men,  it  is  doubly 
so  with  all  the  natives.  A  half-pint  bottle  of  the  stuff  they 
get  for  whisky  will  convert  a  quiet,  peaceable,  inoffensive 
native  into  a  demon;  he  has  to  be  beaten  into  insensibility 
before  he  can  be  arrested.  There  are  stringent  laws  against 
selling  liquor  to  natives,  but  juries  rarely  convict  for  it;  the 


AN  ESKIMO  BELLE 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  101 

probabilities  are  that  half  the  jury  have  done  the  same  thing 
themselves;  whatever  the  reason  may  be,  the  fact  is,  he  gets 
whisky  whenever  he  has  ' '  the  price ' '. 

•  The  natives  saw  their  first  ship  many  years  ago.  I  was  told 
by  an  old  fellow  who  speaks  good  English,  that  when  they  first 
saw  it  they  thought  it  was  some  kind  of  a  water  animal  that 
had  made  its  way  to  this  part  of  the  country;  but  when  they 
saw  the  white  men  getting  out  of  it  they  rushed  for  the  hills; 
in  a  short  time  they  sent  several  of  their  bravest  men  to  in- 
vestigate; the  men  came  back  and  reported  that  the  strangers 
were  evidently  white  Eskimos  from  the  interior  of  the 
country  somewhere.  They  further  reported  that  these  white 
Eskimos  had  many  strange  and  beautiful  articles  that  they 
seemed  to  want  to  exchange  for  furs  and  ivory.  AYhen  the 
natives  found  that  the  new  comers  were  not  dangerous  they 
came  down  from  the  hills  to  the  boat.  They  saw  the  gaudy 
calico  and  bright  jewelry;  they  liked  the  effect  of  the  fire- 
water; they  were  willing  even  anxious  to  trade  furs  and  ivory 
for  these  things.  The  ship  also  had  a  number  of  old  guns. 
The  natives  did  not  understand  these  at  first,  but,  when  taught 
their  use,  they  were  considered  very  valuable.  The  whites 
of  course,  at  first,  evinced  great  reluctance  to  part  with  them, 
but  when  the  Eskimo  saw  how  easily  the  white  men  could  kill 
the  walrus  and  seal  he  was  willing  to  pay  any  price  in  furs. 
The  result  was  that  in  a  week  or  so  the  ship  was  loaded  with 
valuable  furs  and  ivory  and  the  poor  native  had  a  little  cheap 
whisky,  some  tobacco,  a  few  bolts  of  calico  and  some  old  rusty 
guns.  This  thing  has  been  repeated  with  more  or  less  profit 
to  the  white  man  ever  since. 

The  Eskimo  is  of  a  migratory  nature ;  in  the  winter  he  stays 
on  the  coast  where  he  can  cut  through  the  ice  and  get  fish,  and 
where  the  seal  and  walrus  are  plentiful;  in  the  summer  he  goes 
inland  and  catches  salmon  and  other  game.  Eskimos  live  in 
eglows,  which  are  peculiarly  constructed  sod  houses,  during 
their  sojourn  on  the  coast;  inland,  they  generally  inhabit  tents. 
The  time  is  likely  to  come  soon  when  there  will  be  few  Eskimos 
in  Northwestern  Alaska.  A  plague,  in  the  nature  of  our  la 
grippe,  is  taking  them  off  by  the  hundred  every  year. 

About  fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago,  Captain  Gilley  left  the 
Sandwich  Islands  in  a  schooner  to  trade  with  the  natives  of 
Port  Clarence  and  Cape  Prince  of  Wales  villages.  He  dropped 


102  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

anchor  at  the  latter  place  very  near  the  spot  where  a  naval 
engagement  of  the  late  Civil  War  was  fought  between  a  Con- 
federate privateer,  the  Shenandoah,  and  some  armed  whaling 
vessels,  in  which  fight  the  whaling  vessels  were  destroyed". 
About  sixty  natives  came  aboard  and  demanded  whisky,  which 
lie  refused  to  trade  to  them.  They  then  undertook  to  take 
the  liquor  by  force.  A  fight  ensued  in  which  eighteen  of  them 
were  killed  outright,  and  a  numberv  drowned  in  getting 
off  the  boat.  This  is  the  biggest  fight  that  has  ever 
taken  place  in  this  part  of  the  country  between  the 
natives  and  whites;  three  or  four  years  later,  at 
the  same  place,  they  again  became  very  threatening 
toward  the  whalers,  and  Capt.  M.  J.  Healy  of  a  United  States 
revenue  cutter  shelled  three  villages,  but  it  is  not  known  how 
many,  if  any,  were  killed.  Since  that  time  Capt.  Healy  has 
been  held  in  awe  by  them.  Whenever  any  serious  trouble  arose 
between  natives  and  whites,  Capt.  Healy  would  hold  a  prelimi- 
nary examination,  and  if  the  facts  warranted,  the  culprit  was 
taken  to  St.  Michaels  to  be  tried;  if  not,  he  was  turned  loose. 
A  few  years  ago,  while  Capt.  Healy  had  charge  of  the  revenue 
cutter  Bear,  a  native  named  Posier  beat  out  the  brains  of 
his  own  child.  A  council  of  three  captains  and  the  missionary 
at  Herschel  Island  decreed  that  he  have  one  hundred  and  forty 
lashes,  which  they  gave  him.  Then  they  took  him  from  the 
island  to  the  mainland  and  ordered  him  to  leave  the  country. 
He  came  down  into  Northwestern  Alaska  and  murdered  a 
native  family  of  eight  persons;  robbed  them  of  their  canoes, 
dogs  and  other  valuables  and  came  to  Point  Barrow.  In  the 
family  that  he  left  for  dead,  a  little  girl  revived,  and  was 
picked  up  by  some  hunters  that  were  passing.  She  described 
the  murderer  and  pointed  him  out.  The  natives  notified  Cap- 
tain Healy  of  what  had  been  done  and  he  ordered  them  to 
arrest  the  murderer  and  have  him  at  Point  Barrow  when  he 
returned  next  year.  Capt.  Healy  was  relieved  from  duty 
before  the  next  season,  but  the  natives  had  the  dead  body  of 
Posier  there  awaiting  his  return,  and  it  still  remains,  frozen, 
in  an  ice  house  at  that  place,  the  natives  confidently  expecting 
Capt.  Healy  to  return. 

A  group  of  about  fifteen  Eskimos  was  taken  from  near  the 
old  reindeer  station  on  Port  Clarence  Bay,  my  first  landing 
place  in  this  section  of  the  country,  to  the  World's  Fair  at 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  103 

Chicago  by  Minor  Bruce,  a  trader  for  the  Seattle  Hardware 
Company.  He  had  permission  to  do  so  from  the  Government 
Agent,  Dr.  Sheldon  Jackson,  and  took  them  on  his  schooner 
to  Seattle,  from  which  place  they  went  overland  to  Chicago. 
He  represented  that  they  were  of  the  royal  family,  and  called 
one  of  them  the  Duke,  and  another  the  Princess.  They  were 
here  when  I  arrived,  and  I  talked  with  them  frequently.  They 
are  still  known  by  these  cognomens;  it  is  interesting  to  hear 
them  tell  of  their  experiences  in  Chicago.  In  speaking  of  all 
the  great  men  they  had  met  back  there,  they  told  of  Grover 
Cleveland,  the  Great  Chief  of  the  white  man,  and  who,  in  their 
minds,  still  occupies  that  position,  and  of  United  States  Sena- 
tor Mason  of  Illinois,  the  "ahbiba  ahmudluktuk, "  (which, 
translated  means  "great  talker");  they  could  not  remember 
the  name  of  the  Senator  at  first,  but  imitated  his  walk  (he 
being  lame)  and  said  "all  same  Captain  of  'Jeanie'  ",  whose 
name  is  Mason.  On  being  asked  who  was  the  greatest  white 
man  they  had  met  they  would  say  "Him,  Mr.  Healy".  He  was 
even  a  greater  man  with  them  than  Grover  Cleveland. 
The  natives  call  the  "Bear"  the  "Healy,"  and  are  sadly  dis- 
appointed every  year  when  the  ship  appears  without  that  cap- 
tain on  board.  He  always  distributed  the  food  sent  them  by 
the  V.  S.  (ioverimient,  but  the  natives  claim  that  some  of  the 
revenue  cutters  have  not  always  done  so  since. 

There  is  a  very  rich  Eskimo  near  Teller  on  the  Siberian 
Coast.  He  is  a  millionaire,  the  richest  man,  white  or  black, 
who  resides  in  this  northern  country.  He  has  large  store- 
houses full  of  bone,  furs  and  other  like  commodities.  Hun- 
dreds of  natives  work  for  him,  getting  their  pay  in  trade  at 
Alaska  prices.  I  am  told  he  sells  an  immense  amount  of 
whisky  to  the  natives;  if  he  sells  a  shipload  of  ivory  and  furs, 
the  space  is  soon  rilled  again.  His  trading  station  is  well 
known  by  most  of  the  whaling  captains. 

The  native  women  on  the  Siberian  side  dress  differently 
from  those  on  our  side;  they  wear  the  old  fashioned  pantalets 
of  our  grandmothers'  time.  As  you  go  up  the  Alaskan  shore 
on  the  An-tic.  you  find  the  native  in  his  more  primitive  state; 
lie  has  seen  fewer  white  men,  and  does  not  know  the  value  of 
money:  his  great  desire  is  to  trade.  At  Point  Hope,  well 
toward  the  northern  extremity  of  Alaska,  is  situated  two 
Protestant  missions:  the  Eskimo  there  is  well-to-do,  has  plenty 


104  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

of  furs,  whalebone  and  other  trading  material;  is  generous, 
peaceable,  and  for  their  race,  industrious;  there  is  a  whaling 
station  here,  and  he  has  become  skilled  in  this  business.  There 
are  very  few  native  settlements  between  Point  Hope  and  Point 
Barrow,  the  most  northern  piece  of  land  in  America,  lying- 
in  about  latitude  71  degrees  22  minutes  north.  The  natives 
around  Point  Barrow  seem  to  be  particularly  bright  fellows. 
They  have  heard  from  the  whalers  so  much  about  the  north 
pole  that  it  would  not  be  surprising,  as  well  equipped  as  they 
are  for  traveling  over  ice  and  snow,  and  as  accustomed  as  they 
are  to  this  work,  that  some  of  them  should  find  that  much 
sought  object  before  the  white  man  does;  it  is  said  they  have 
talked  of  making  an  effort  in  this  direction.  Would  it  not  be 
poetic  justice  that  the  real  inhabitants  of  the  bleak  northland 
should  get  the  credit  of  this  discovery?  True,  it  might  not  be 
of  any  scientific  benefit  -to  the  world,  but  there  is  really  not 
much  science  connected  with  it  after  all.  From  what  I  have 
seen  in  the  mining  districts  of  Northwestern  Alaska,  I  am  in- 
clined to  believe  that  the  only  thing  that  will  prevent  the 
dusky  native  from  being  the  first  to  discover  the  pole,  if  he 
sees  fit  to  make  the  effort,  will  be  the  circulation  of  a  report  in 
this  country  that  there  is  undoubtedly  a  rich  deposit  of  gold 
there.  There  would  surely  be  an  immediate  stampede  for  that 
quarter,  and  some  "sour  dough"  would  reach  it.  Mr.  Eskimo, 
standing  on  that  imaginary  spot,  would  indeed  be  able  to  say 
what  no  other  human  being  ever  has  said.  Time  would  be 
wiped  out  so  far  as  it  related  to  him,  for  time  is  reckoned  by 
noon  and  he  could  have  no  noon  while  he  remained  on  that 
spot;  his  compass  would  not  work;  three  of  its  main  points 
would  be  entirely  useless — north,  east  and  west.  He  would 
not  need  a  compass  though,  as  he  could  only  go  south;  if  he 
should  lie  down  on  his  side  across  the  pole  and  sleep  for 
twelve  hours,  his  head  and  heels  would  be  just  reversed  when 
he  woke  up.  If  he  should  camp  on  the  spot  for  a  year  he  would 
only  have  two  days,  both  of  equal  length — one  of  darkness  and 
the  other  of  light.  On  March  the  21st  the  sun  would  rise  for 
him;  at  first  he  would  get  only  a  glimpse  of  it;  next  day  it 
would  make  a  complete  circle  around  him,  following  the  line 
of  the  horizon.  The  next,  it  would  describe  a  little  higher 
circle  and  so  on,  like  a  spiral  staircase  until  June  21st  follow- 
ing, when  it  would  begin  to  retrace  its  steps  downstairs  again 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  105 

until  September  21st,  when  it  would  disappear  altogether  until 
the  21st  of  the  succeeding  March.  The  Xorth  Star  would  be 
right  over  the  fellow's  head  as  he  stood  on  that  mystic  spot, 
and  all  of  the  other  stars  within  the  line  of  his  vision  during 
that  six  months  of  night  would  circle  on  a  horizontal  plane 
around  him. 

But  the  Eskimo  need  not  go  so  far  north  to  see  curious 
astronomical  phenomena.  I,  myself,  have  seen  the  sun  rise 
and  set  almost  directly  in  the  north  on  June  21st,  and  the 
length  of  time  it  was  down  did  not  exceed  a  few  minutes.  I 
was  camped  on  a  low  spot  at  Port  Clarence  Bay.  If  I  had  gone 
to  the  top  of  any  nearby  mountain  it  would  not  have  set  at 
all  to  me.  On  December  21st  the  converse  was  true. 

Five  miles  west  of  Point  Barrow  at  Cape  Smith,  is  the  second 
largest  settlement  on  the  Arctic  coast;  the  inhabitants  live 
mostly  in  "'knock  down"  houses  brought  in  by  the  whalers, 
burn  coal,  and  have  the  ordinary  cooking  utensils  of  the 
whites;  they  live  well,  have  plenty  of  flour,  " black  skin" 
(whale  meat),  walrus,  seal,  ducks,  geese  and  such  other  edibles 
as  tickle  the  native  palate;  they  keep  all  these  things  in  "dug 
outs ' '  or  ice  houses,  thereby  having  them  frozen  and  fresh  the 
year  round.  You  must  travel  fully  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  miles  east  of  these  before  you  find  any  more  natives.  Then 
you  come  across  a  race  called  the  Nunatamas,  who  are  fine 
looking  Eskimos,  fully  six  feet  in  height,  and  in  fine  propor- 
tion. It  is  said  that  the  name  of  this  tribe  is  from  Nuna  (land) 
and  tama  (inward),  though  they  live  on  the  coast;  it  is  thought 
that  they  take  this  manner  of  distinguishing  themselves  from 
the  island  natives.  This  tribe  is  not  so  large  as  it  used  to  be; 
before  the  advent  of  the  missionary,  they  are  said  to  have 
been  accustomed  to  kill  all  their  children  except  the  oldest  boy; 
in  fact,  I  have  it  on  the  best  authority  that  it  is  practiced  more 
or  less  today.  These  people  are  particularly  peaceable  and 
hard  working  fellows;  they  are  about  the  best  looking  natives 
on  the  Arctic  coast.  About  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  east 
of  Herschel  is  Kichards  Island;  here  is  found  the  Cogniulic 
tribe,  the  largest  settlement  on  the  coast,  and  the  most  eastern; 
Cogmulic  means  Eastern  native  in  their  language;  unlike 
the  other  tribes  of  the  coast,  they  practice  polygamy.  Game 
is  very  abundant  in  this  section. 

If  a  white  man  kills  one  of  these  natives,  they  return  the  com- 


106  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

pliment;  if  an  old  one  is  the  victim,  then  an  old  white  man 
"bites  the  dust"  sooner  or  later;  if  a  young  one,  then  a  young 
white  man  pays  the  penalty. 

These  fellows  are  skillful  workers  in  brass,  which  they  get 
from  the  whalers.  Inland,  up  the  McKenzie  Eiver  about  two 
hundred  and  fifty  miles,  we  find  the  Ithilic,  or  Slavey  native; 
they  are  particularly  noted  for  their  hunting  and  trapping; 
they  trap  a  great  deal  for  the  Hudson  Bay  Company;  these 
fellows  are  very  small  in  size,  but  wiry  and  full  of  life  and 
vigor;  the  nearest  neighbors  of  this  tribe  are  what  is  called 
the  "Dogribbed  natives, "  and  inhabit  the  Great  Bear  Lake 
country  and  what  is  known  as  the  Barren  Lands ;  in  fact,  very 
little  is  known  of  any  of  these  natives  not  living  immediately 
on  the  coast. 

The  traditions,  superstitions,  habits  and  customs  of  the 
northern  native  are  most  interesting;  like  their  brothers  of 
more  southern  climes,  they  have  their  l  i  medicine  men ' ' ;  these 
fellows  adopt  all  manner  of  methods  to  compel  the  others  to 
look  upon  them  with  awe.  I  knew  of  one  at  Cape  York,  who 
went  out  hunting  seal  one  day;  he  was  being  watched  from  the 
shore  by  the  whole  population  of  the  native  village.  Sud- 
denly, they  saw  the  smoke  of  his  gun,  and  shortly  heard  the 
report ;  the  doctor  fell  over  as  if  shot ;  they  all  ran  toward  him, 
but  just  before  they  reached  him,  he  arose,  and  waving  his 
hands  in  the  air  and  dancing  in  a  demoniacal  manner,  informed 
them  that  he  had  been  shot,  but  had  healed  himself;  in  proof 
of  this  he  showed  them  that  he  was  covered  with  fresh  blood, 
which  he  said  had  come  from  the  wound  before  he  healed  it. 
The  truth  was  he  had  taken  a  quantity  of  blood  with  him  when 
he  went  out. 

The  natives  near  the  white  settlements  are  fast  learning  that 
the  medicine  of  the  pale  face  is  superior  to  the  fantastic  gyra- 
tions of  the  medicine  man.  When  an  Eskimo  dies  in  an  eglow 
or  tent,  it  will  never  be  inhabited  by  people  of  that  race  again 
unless  the  body  is  taken  out  through  a  hole  in  the  roof;  they 
are  frequently  taken  outside  on  the  ground  or  snow  to  breathe 
their  last;  they  bury  their  dead  on  poles  about  eight  feet  above 
the  ground;  the  corpse  is  well  wrapped  in  canvas  and  other 
covering,  and  generally  deposited  in  a  rough  box  or  coffin; 
every  article  belonging  to  the  deceased  is  buried  with  the  body; 
I  have  seen  their  gun,  kayak,  (canoe)  oomiak,  (big  boat)  and 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAS'i  109 

other  similar  articles  lying  alongside  the  box  that  contained 
the  remains.  The  native  will  never  sell  or  even  use,  if  he 
knows  it,  any  article  so  consecrated.  Sometimes  the  wily 
white  man  confiscates  these  things  for  his  own  use,  but  he  can 
neither  sell  nor  even  give  any  of  them  to  another  native  if  the 
latter  is  aware  of  the  theft.  I  once  saw  two  white  men  dis- 
puting over  the  name  of  some  small  native  relic;  they  could 
not  agree,  and,  calling  up  a  native  who  stood  near,  referred  the 
matter  to  him;  he  took  it  in  his  hand  and  examined  it  closely, 
then  asked  where  they  got  it.  On  being  told  that  it  was  from 
a  native  grave  he  dropped  it  to  the  floor  as  if  it  had  been  red 
hot. 

The  Eskimo  has  no  method  of  measuring  the  time  of  day;  he 
reckons  the  month  by  the  moon.  Six  months  with  him  is  ' '  six 
moons ";  distance  is  computed  by  "sleeps";  a  "sleep"  is  a 
day's  travel,  but  if  the  traveler  takes  sick  or  is  otherwise  de- 
layed on  the  way  no  allowance  is  made  and  the  "sleeps"  are 
counted  from  the  tune  he  starts  until  he  arrives  at  his  desti- 
nation. If  the  fellow  does  not  understand  enough  English  to 
say  k '  sleeps ' '  then  he  will  make  an  appropriate  gesture. 

Their  story  of  how  day  and  night  originated  is  interesting. 
They  will  tell  you  that  centuries  ago  all  this  northern  country, 
except  some  mountain  highlands  in  the  section  now  known  as 
the  Kotzebue  Sound  region,  was  under  water.  One  great  chief 
ruled  over  all  the  northern  Eskimos.  He  had  a  grand  eglow 
on  the  top  of  a  high  table  mountain,  which  sloped  gradually 
toward  the  Arctic  Ocean.  On  the  side  of  this  mountain  were 
hundreds  of  snow-covered  eglows  wherein  lived  most  of 
his  subjects.  Guards  patrolled  the  regal  plateau  night  and 
day,  for  it  seems  that  even  in  those  early  times  the  head  that 
wore  a  crown  did  not  rest  easily.  From  time  immemorial 
there  had  hung  in  the  eglow  palace  of  the  successive  chiefs 
two  large  golden  balls  several  feet  in  diameter,  but  light  as 
air.  No  one  knew  what  they  contained,  but  tradition  informed 
them  that  if  they  should  be  broken  the  people  would  be  scat- 
tered and  the  ruler  would  lose  his  authority;  to  guard  these 
was  a  part  of  the  duty  of  the  sentinels.  One  day  while  the 
chief  was  down  on  the  shore  watching  a  great  walrus  hunt, 
two  children  of  the  tribe  passed  the  sleeping  sentinels,  and  in 
their  childish  curiosity  entered  the  royal  dwelling;  in  the  dim 
twilight  that  then  pervaded  the  country,  they  saw  these  beau- 


110  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

tiful  globes  hanging  from  the  ceiling;  it  was  the  work  of  but 
a  few  minutes  to  get  them  loose;  they  rolled  them  around  in 
the  snow  near  the  building  for  some  time  without  awakening 
the  oil-scented  guardians.  Finally  the  spheres  escaped  from 
their  control  and  started  down  the  mountain  side;  the  natives 
saw  them  bounding  by,  but  could  not  stop  them;  a  wild  scene 
of  commotion  ensued.  When  near  the  bottom  of  the  moun- 
tain the  long  cherished  spheres  broke  into  a  thousand  pieces, 
and  night  and  day  were  given  forth  to  the  world.  At  the  same 
time  a  noise  like  the  crack  of  doom  was  heard,  and  the  sea 
receding,  left  all  this  northern  country  exposed.  The  new 
arrivals  struggled  and  fought  for  many  *  *  sleeps, ' '  each,  claim- 
ing the  right  to  rule  the  country.  During  all  this  time  the 
elements  were  badly  disturbed;  lightning  flashed,  thunder 
roared,  and  the  waters  rolled  high ;  at  last,  the  terrific  struggle 
ended  in  a  compromise;  it  was  agreed  that  each  should  rule  for 
six  "  moons "  beginning  with  day.  Then  quiet  reigned.  The 
natives  soon  scattered  to  the  new  lands,  and  the  old  chief  lost 
his  power. 

Another  tradition  on  the  same  subject  is  that  while  semi- 
darkness  covered  the  country  there  appeared  one  day  a  bird 
resembling  our  crow;  the  natives  had  heard  that  in  some  land 
far  to  the  southward  there  was  bright  daylight;  they  asked 
this  strange  bird  if  this  was  true  and  received  an  affirmative 
answer;  they  then  implored  it  to  go  back  to  this  country  and 
supplicate  the  Great  Spirit  of  that  region  to  grant  them  the 
same  blessing.  The  crow  finally  consented,  and  after  many 
"moons"  returned  with  the  information  that  their  request  was 
partially  granted;  that  henceforth  they  should  have  daylight 
at  least  half  the  time. 

There  is  a  rugged,  dark  looking  mountain  near  Kotzebue 
Sound  that  the  natives  think  is  haunted ;  they  will  go  miles  out 
of  their  way  to  avoid  it;  no  native  has  ever  been  known  to 
scale  this  elevation.  I  did  not  learn  what  particular  kind  of  an 
evil  spirit  is  supposed  to  dwell  there.  At  another  place  in  the 
same  locality,  there  is  a  rough  mountain  pass  which  the  na- 
tives will  tell  you  is  guarded  by  an  immense  bird  unlike  any 
other  ever  seen  in  this  country.  No  Eskimo  is  allowed  to  pass 
this  winged  sentinel. 

An  article  on  the  Eskimo  would  be  incomplete  without  some 
mention  of  the  native  dog;  this  creature  is  to  them  what  the 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  111 

horse  is  to  the  outside  world;  in  fact,  the  white  miner  of 
Alaska  today  could  scarcely  get  along  without  this  animal. 
He  might  get  along  without  the  Eskimo  himself,  but  not  his 
canine.  Since  the  great  influx  from  the  outside  world,  many 
foreign  dogs  have  been  brought  in,  but  they  do  not  take  the 
place  of  the  Malamoot  or  Siwash;  they  can  not  stand  the  rigors 
of  winter  very  well,  and  this  is  the  particular  time  of  the  year 
they  are  needed.  The  foreigner  has  to  be  fed  even  in  summer, 
while  the  other  will  " rustle"  for  himself  if  necessary.  I  have 
found  this  out  to  my  sorrow.  My  first  few  months  here  were 
spent  in  a  tent;  when  my  things  were  landed  from  the  boat  I 
did  not  get  them  all  under  cover  the  first  night.  Among  the 
articles  left  out  was  a  box  of  bacon  well  bound  with  iron 
hoops;  next  morning  the  thick  boards  had  been  gnawed 
through  between  the  bands,  and  some  dog  had  had  a  good  feed. 
After  I  got  my  tent  up  I  used  to  miss  any  article  of  food  that 
was  left  out  of  the  heavy  iron  bound  grub  box.  One  morning 
1  hung  a  side  of  bacon  to  the  ridge  pole  which  was  very  high 
in  my  tent,  and  stepped  out  for  a  bucket  of  water,  having  fas- 
tened the  door  flap  of  the  tent  securely  and  boarded  it  up  with 
a  knock-down  rocker  I  had  convenient.  When  I  came  back 
the  bacon  vras  gone.  Being  a  "cheechako"  and  not  knowing 
the  shrewdness  of  the  Malamoot,  I  laid  the  theft  to  some 
human  being;  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  any  animal  could 
get  the  meat,  firmly  tied  and  fully  seven  feet  from  the  ground. 
I  hung  up  another  side  of  bacon,  and  cut  off  enough  for  break- 
fast and  dinner.  I  was  about  the  tent  all  day,  but  next  morn- 
ing went  off  a  few  hundred  yards  after  water  again,  having 
fastened  the  tent  door  this  time  so  well  that  I  was  sure  no  two- 
legged  thief  in  the  country  could  get  in  short  of  five  minutes 
without  cutting  the  heavy  canvas.  Imagine  my  surprise  on 
returning  with  the  water  to  see  a  contemptible  Malamoot  dog- 
disappearing  across  the  tundra  a  hundred  yards  away  with  my 
bacon;  you  can  rest  assured  I  never  hung  any  more  meat  there. 
In  winter  almost  all  the  hauling  is  done  by  dog  teams;  there 
are  quite  a  large  number  of  reindeer  here,  but  they  do  not  seem 
to  be  half  as  satisfactory  as  the  former;  they  will  not  travel 
when  tired,  but  stand  and  sulk,  and  are  much  trouble  to  feed 
and  care  for.  The  sagacity  of  the  Eskimo  dog  is  wonderful. 
He  both  loves  and  fears  his  master.  Two  cases  came  under 
my  immediate  notice  during  the  winter  I  spent  in  Teller  that 


112  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

were  the  talk  of  the  camp  for  some  time.  Dr.  Tarn  and  his 
brother,  residents  of  the  town,  had  gone  to  the  Spit,  eighteen 
miles  away,  with  their  dog  team  after  wood.  The  thermometer 
was  only  about  15  degrees  below  zero,  but  a  heavy  wind  was 
blowing.  When  within  a  mile  or  so  of  home  the  doctor  gave 
out;  his  brother  covered  him  up  as  warm  as  he  could,  turned 
the  dogs  loose  from  the  sled  and  hurried  to  town  for  help.  A 
rescuing  party  soon  started  out,  and  after  a  struggle  through 
the  rapidly  increasing  storm,  found  the  lost  one  unconscious 
but  still  alive.  Beside  his  body  cuddled  up  as  closely  as  pos- 
sible as  if  to  keep  him  warm,  was  one  of  the  faithful  dogs ;  the 
animal  at  first  refused  to  allow  the  party  to  touch  his  master, 
and  only  did  so  after  much  persuasion.  The  physician  was  so 
badly  frozen  he  died  the  next  morning.  The  dog  seemed  dis- 
consolate for  many  days.  The  other  case  was  even  more 
startling.  In  this  the  man  had  also  been  after  wood  with  a 
team  of  two  dogs;  on  the  way  back  he  felt  his  fingers  getting 
numb  and  took  off  his  '  *  mits ' '  to  rub  his  hands  together.  The 
weather  was  so  cold  that  his  hands  involuntarily  clinched,  and 
he  could  not  get  them  covered  again.  He  managed,  however, 
to  unloose  the  team  from  the  sled,  and  staggered  on  toward  his 
destination.  The  dogs,  fastened  together,  left  their  master 
and  ran  to  Teller.  They  went  to  a  house  where  the  man  had 
frequently  visited,  and  scratched  at  the  door  until  it  was 
opened ;  then  they  turned  and  started  back  toward  the  freezing 
man  as  much  as  to  say,  " Follow  me,"  The  people  did  not 
comprehend,  and  did  not  follow.  The  dogs  went  all  the  way 
out  until  they  met  the  object  of  their  solicitation,  and  jumping 
up  on  him,  seemed  by  their  actions  to  try  to  tell  him  what  they 
had  done.  Then  they  started  off  for  help  again,  rapping  at 
two  other  houses,  as  they  had  at  the  first  one,  and  each  time 
returning  to  meet  the  man.  He  finually  got  to  town  and 
secured  aid  but  was  badly  frozen.  I  helped  the  surgeons  to 
amputate  both  his  hands  a  couple  o£  weeks  afterward. 

An  ordinary  dog  on  a  fair  trail  will  pull  one  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  on -a  sled.  The  Eskimos  are  generally  kind  to 
their  animals.  I  have  seen  some  white  men  abuse  their  dogs 
so  badly  that  they  would  have  been  arrested  on  the  spot  in 
any  of  the  large  cities  of  "the  States,"  for  the  same  acts. 

A  great  many  dogs  go  mad  in  this  climate,  but  they  generally 
seem  to  want  to  bite  other  dogs,  and  do  not  often  molest  human 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  113 

b^ngs.  I  have  known  a  Malamoot  dog  to  cause  a  loss  of  many 
hundreds  of  dollars,  as  each  good  work  dog  is  worth  from  one 
hundred  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  the  winter  time. 
Some  "leaders"  are  worth  even  more  than  the  latter  amount. 
The  "leader,"  as  the  name  indicates,  is  a  dog  who  leads  all 
the  others;  he  minds  the  words  of  command  well,  and  will 
1  i  gee ' '  and  ' l  haw ' '  as  neatly  as  an  ox. 

I  deem  it  proper  in  this  chapter  to  say  something  6f  the 
"squaw  man".  I  did  think  of  writing  a  separate  one  on  this 
subject,  but  it  being  so  closely  allied  to  the  matter  in  hand,  and 
hardly  of  enough  importance  for  a  separate  heading,  I  changed 
my  mind.  I  approach  it  with  some  hesitancy,  as  I  am  well 
acquainted  with  quite  a  number  of  these  men,  some  of  whom 
are  really  good  fellows,  as  the  term  is  generally  understood, 
but  I  propose  to  "hew  to  the  line,  let  the  chips  fall  where  they 
may."  It  is  not  my  intention  to  be  personal,  and  I  am  satis- 
fied it  will  not  be  so  taken.  They  are  found  in  almost  every 
Indian  settlement  from  Point  Barrow  on  the  north  to  the  most 
southern  extremity  of  Alaska.  Nearly  all  the  whalers7  officers 
are  in  the  same  boat,  and  if  not  called  "squaw-men"  should 
be  so  termed.  If  they  do  not  live  with  the  native  women  on 
the  land  they  take  them  with  them  on  the  ships  during  the 
trip  and  keep  them  on  board  during  the  long  winter  while  the 
vessel  is  frozen  in  in  the  ice.  Within  a  very  few  miles  of  the 
town  of  Teller,  where  this  book  is  being  written,  there  are  at 
least  six  half-breeds,  some  of  them  nearly  grown,  who  claim 
sea  captains,  married  men  with  white  children  in  "the  States" 
as  their  fathers.  As  was  said  in  a  former  chapter,  there  is  no 
such  word  in  the  Eskimo  language  of  this  country  as  virtue. 
They  have  no  need  of  the  word  as  they  do  not  know  what  it 
means.  The  sea  captains  and  the  regular  squaw  men  generally 
feed  the  squaw  a  little  better  than  the  buck  does,  and  give  her 
a  little  brighter  material  for  her  parka  or  other  wearing  ap- 
parel. In  return  she  gets  the  squaw  man's  wood  and  water 
and  cooks  the  little  "cow-cow"  for  him.  I  suppose  they,  like 
Tennyson's  love-sick  swain  in  Locksley  Hall,  think,  "There 
the  passions  cramped  no  longer  shall  have  scope  and  breathing 
space;  I  will  take  some  savage  woman;  she  shall  rear  my  dusky 
race. ' ' 

When  he  returns  to  his  oil-scented  cabin  or  native  eglow  after 
his  day's  work  at  the  mine,  he  finds  this  dusky  face  at  the 


114  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

door  and  perhaps  two  or  three  half-breeds,  blood  relatives  of 
his  white  children  at  home,  hanging  by  their  dirty  black  hands 
to  their  mother's  parka.  "Iron-jointed,  supple-sinewed,  they 
shall  dive  and  they  shall  run;  catch  the  wild  goat  by  the  hair, 
and  hurl  their  lances  in  the  sun. ' ' 

How  proud  he  must  feel  of  his  offspring  here!  How  he  must 
love  those  at  home! 

It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  nine-tenths  of  the  half-breeds 
die  of  consumption  or  like  diseases  before  they  are  grown. 
God  thus  seems  to  put  the  brand  of  Cain  upon  them. 

Most  of  these  men  talk  the  native  jargon  well.  There  are 
only  about  eight  hundred  words  in  the  tongue  as  spoken  in 
this  part  of  Alaska.  There  is  no  alphabet  or  written  language. 
Few,  if  any  white  men,  understand  the  simon-pure  spoken 
language.  What  they  do  talk  is  a  corrupt  conglomeration  of 
Eskimo  and  English.  The  first  white  men  who  came  to  Alaska 
were  to  some  extent  excusable  for  leading  such  a  life.  The 
natives  would  not  so  readily  give  them  food  or  other  neces- 
saries unless  they  were  one  of  the  tribe,  so  to  speak.  I  know 
it  to  be  a  fact,  even  today,  that  the  squaw  man  has  much  more 
influence  over  them  than  anybody  else. 

I  never  heard  of  any  marriage  ceremony  between  these 
people.  In  fact,  so  far  as  I  know,  the  natives  have  no  such 
thing,  except  that  those  near  missions,  who  have  listened  to 
the  teaching  of  the  missionary,  follow  our  ceremony. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  the  "  better-half "  really  loves 
her  lover;  then,  when  the  time  for  his  return  to  the  south 
comes,  and  he  is  perhaps  about  to  go  to  the  other  woman,  who 
has  been,  during  the  years  of  his  absence  after  a  fortune,  a 
good,  pure,  faithful  wife  to  him,  there  are  heartaches  and  wail- 
ing in  the  smoke-begrimed  eglow,  for  the  poor  native  woman 
has  a  heart  as  well  as  her  white  sister.  I  have  known  of  one 
or  two  such  scenes  myself.  But  the  hand  of  Fate  is  upon  her. 
She,  with  her  numerous  progeny,  has  to  return  to  her  tribe 
or  relatives,  and  the  squaw-man  never  sees  his  quondam  wife 
or  beloved  children  again.  As  a  rule,  the  squaw-man  feels  in 
his  own  heart  that  he  has  degraded  himself.  He  seeks  the 
company  of  natives  more  than  he  does  that  of  his  fellow  white 
men.  He  usually  lives  at  the  native' village,  and  is  apparently 
in  all  but  color,  one  of  them. 


OR,  THtf  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  115 

THE  LAMENT  OF  THE  OLD  SOUR  DOUGH. 


By  Sam.  C.  Dunham. 

I've  trudged  and  I've  starved  and  I've  frozen 

All  over  this  white  barren  land,— 
Where  the  sea  stretches  straight,  white  and  silent, 

Where  the  timberless  white  mountains  stand, — 
From  the  white  peaks  that  gleam  in  the  moonlight, 

Like  a  garment  that  graces  a  soul, 
To  the  last  white  sweep  of  the  prairies, 

Where  the  black  shadows  brood  round  the  pole. 

(Now,  pray  don't  presume  from  this  prelude 

That  a  flame  of  poetical  fire 
Is  to  burst  from  my  brain  like  a  beacon, 

For  I've  only  been  tuning  my  lyre 
To  the  low  sad  voice  of  a  singer 

Who's  inspired  to  sing  you  some  facts 
About  the  improvements  in  staking 

And  the  men  who  mine  with  an  ax.) 

I  Ve  panned  from  Peru  to  Point  Barrow, 

But  I  never  located  a  claim 
Till  I  'd  fully  persuaded  my  conscience 

That  pay  dirt^pervaded  the  same; 
And  this  is  the  source  of  my  sorrow, 

As  you  will  be  forced  to  agree 
When  you  learn  how  relentless  Misfortune 

Has  dumped  all  her  tailings  on  me. 

I  worked  with  my  partner  all  summer, 

Cross-cutting  a  cussed  old  creek, 
Which  we  never  once  thought  of  locating 

Unless  we  located  the  streak ; 
And  when  at  the  close  of  the  season 

We  discovered  the  creek  was  a  fake 
We  also  discovered  the  region 

Had  nothing  left  in  it  to  stake. 


116  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

\Ye  traversed  the  toe-twisting  tundra, 

Where  reindeer  root  round  for  their  feed, 
And  the  hungry  Laplanders  who  herd  them 

Devour  them  before  they  can  breed. 
Here  it  seems  that  good  claims  might  be  plenty, 

And  we  thought  we  would  stake  one— perhaps; 
But  we  found  to  our  grief  that  the  gulches 

Were  staked  in  the  name  of  the  Lapps. 

A  hundred  long  leagues  to  the  northward, 

O'er  the  untrodden,  sun-burnished  snow, 
We  struggled,  half  blinded  and  half  famished, 

To  the  sea  where  the  staunch  whalers  go. 
We  found  there  broad  beaches  of  ruby 

And  mountains  with  placers  and  leads, 
But  all,  save  the  sky,  was  pre-empted 

By  salt-water  sailors  and  Swedes. 

Then  we  climbed  the  cold  creeks  near  a  mission 

That  is  run  by  the  agents  of  God, 
AYJio  trade  Bibles  and  prayer-books  to  heathen 

For  ivory,  sealskins  and  cod. 
At  last  we  were  sure  we  had  struck  it, 

But  alas!  for  our  hope  of  reward,— 
The  landscape  from  sea-beach  to  sky-line 

Was  staked  in  the  name  of  the  Lord! 

We  're  too  slow  for  the  new  breed  isf  miners, 

Embracing  all  classes  of  men, 
Who  locate  by  power  of  attorney 

And  prospect  their  claims  with  a  pen, — 
Who  do  all  their  fine  work  through  agents 

And  loaf  around  town  with  the  sports, 
On  intimate  terms  with  the  lawyers, 

On  similar  terms  with  the  courts. 

We're  scared  to  submission  and  silence 
By  the  men  the  Government  sends 

To  force  us  to  keep  law  and  order, 

While  they  keep  claims  for  their  friends, 

And  collect  in  an  indirect  manner 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  11? 

An  exceedingly  burdensome  tax, 
Assumed  for  a  time  by  the  traders 

And  then  transferred  to  our  backs. 

We  had  some  hard  knocks  on  the  Klondike 

From  the  cub-lion's  unpadded  paws, 
And  suffered  some  shocks  from  high  license 

And  other  immutable  laws; 
But  they  robbed  us  by  regular  schedule, 

So  we  knew  just  what  to  expect, 
While  at  Xome  we're  scheduled  to  struggle 

Until  we're  financially  wrecked. 

I'm  sick  of  the  screams  of  the  eagle 

And  laws  of  dishonest  design, 
And  I  'm  going  in  quest  of  a  country 

Where  a  miner  can  locate  a  mine; 
So  when  I've  rustled  an  outfit 

These  places  will  know  me  no  more, 
For  I'll  try  my  luck  with  the  Kussians 

On  the  bleak  Siberian  shore. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
ALASKAN  SENSE  AND  NONSENSE. 

It  would  hardly  be  expected  that  there  could  be  any  humor 
where  there  are  so  many  hardships  and  trials  and  troubles  as 
there  are  in  this  northland,  but  there  is  considerable  of  it. 
The  average  man  does  not  feel  like  joking  or  making  fun  when 
dangers  beset  him  on  every  hand,  but  he  is  very  ready  to  enjoy 
it  if  somebody  else  makes  it.  Like  everything  else  that  is 
scarce  it  is  unusually  enjoyable  when  he  does  come  across  it. 

This  chapter  will  necessarily  be  more  or  less  disconnected; 
it  is  my  intention  to  make  it  a  kind  of  "pot-pourri"  of  different 
scenes,  incidents  and  customs  that  go  to  make  up  a  miner's 
life  on  this  bleak  shore. 

One  of  the  most  laughable  incidents  I  have  heard  of  occurred 
in  one  of  the  little  mining  towns  near  here.  A  friend  of  mine, 
"Dick"  Tracy,  who  had  been  spending  the  evening  with  his 


118  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

mining  friends,  found  himself,  late  at  night,  some  distance  from 
home,  so  he  thought  he  would  stop  at  one  of  the  numerous 
"bunk  houses"  in  the  camp;  the  clerk  told  him  to  go  upstairs 
and  take  the  first  room  on  the  right,  at  the  head  of  the  stairs ; 
there  were  several  turns  in  these  stairs,  and  the  hour  being 
late  Dick's  mind  was  not  so  clear  as  when  he  awoke  in  the 
morning.  The  result  was  that  he  took  the  first  room  on  the 
left.  When  he  entered  the  room  he  saw  there  was  no  lamp  or 
candle,  and  he  had  no  matches ;  this  made  no  difference  to  him, 
however.  He  could  see,  in  the  dim  moonlight,  that  somebody 
had  gone  to  bed  ahead  of  him.  It  very  frequently  happens 
that  entire  strangers  are  compelled  to  bunk  together  in  this 
country.  Dick  undressed  and  retired,  noticing  as  he  crawled 
into  bed,  that  the  other  fellow  was  right  in  the  middle  of  the 
couch.  After  he  had  located  himself  on  the  outer  edge 
he  gave  the  fellow  a  little  nudge  in  the  side  to  remind 
him  that  he  had  taken  his  half  out  of  the  middle,  but  the 
stranger  did  not  budge.  Dick  gave  him  another  punch  in  the 
ribs,  but  this  did  not  awake  him.  Getting  out  of  patience,  lie 
waited  a  few  moments,  then  landed  a  pugilistic  upper  cut  on 
the  short  ribs;  the  fellow  did  not  move.  Just  at  this  moment 
the  door  opened,  and  a  man  and  woman  came  in ;  they  sat  down 
on  the  sofa  in  the  room,  and  began  a  low  conversation;  Dick 
was  at  once  all  attention.  Suddenly  the  lady  said,  "It's  a 
shame  for  us  to  sit  here  talking  nonsense  when  that  poor  man 
that  was  frozen  to  death  yesterday  lies  there  in  bed."  Dick, 
upon  hearing  this,  gave  one  jump  and  landed  in  the  center  of 
the  floor;  the  couple  thinking  the  dead  had  come  to  life, 
made  a  rush  for  the  door,  closely  followed  by  our  mining 
friend.  They  all  tried  to  get  down  the  narrow  staircase  at 
once;  the  result  was  a  broken  shoulder  for  Tracy,  and  various 
bruises  and  contusions  for  the  other  parties. 

The^  summer  after  the  rich  "diggings"  were  found  on  the 
world-renowned  Anvil  and  other  creeks,  the  newly  appointed 
district  judge  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  mining  public 
by  ordering  a  receiver  in  almost  every  case  where  a  valuable 
mine  was  in  controversy.  Two  Irishmen  had  been  at  work  for 
some  time,  sinking  a  shaft  on  a  claim  they  had  located.  One 
day  the  fellow  at  the  windlass  felt  a  jerk  on  the  rope,  evidently 
given  to  attract  his  attention.  Upon  looking  down  the  hole, 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  119 

lie  heard  the  voice  of  his  partner  from  out  of  the  darkness  call 
out,  "Say,  Pat,  send  down  a  receiver;  I've  struck  gold." 

Speaking-  of  courts,  reminds  me  that  it  would  indeed  be 
interesting  to  the  person  who  is  used  to  living  in  a  country 
where  trials  are  conducted  with  strict  formality  to  know  how 
these  matters  are  frequently  carried  on  in  a  mining  camp.  The 
following  from  the  Klondike  Nugget  will  serve  as  an  illustra- 
tion; the  story  is  absolutely  true  and  not  overdrawn.  I  have 
talked  with  several  of  the  parties  who  took  part  in  it: 

THE  TRIAL  OF  A  POLAR  BEARSKIN. 


A  Rare  Contribution  to  the  Unique  in  Yukon   Literature- 
Graphic  Description  of  the  Efforts  Made  to  Prove  the 
Ownership  of  a  Robe — The  Jury  Unable  to  Reach 
a  Determination. 

The  following  description  of  a  court  scene  occurring  recently 
at  Circle  City  was  handed  in  for  publication  by  a  recent  arrival 
from  that  place.  The  truth  of  its  statements  is  not  vouched  for 
by  us,  though  it  is  by  the  contributor,  and  it  is  published  only 
as  a  contribution  to  the  unique  Yukon  literature. 

Scene — Court-room;  present  about  fifty  residents  of  Circle. 
Enter  U.  S.  Deputy  Marshal;  walks  up  to  desk  and  takes  off 
his  hat,  and  everybody  else  does  the  same.  The  Marshal  has 
tears  in  his  eyes,  and  presents  the  appearance  of  a  man  who 
has  just  lost  his  grandmother. 

Mar.  (in  a  cracked  voice)— " Well,  I  guess  we'll  go  on  with 
this  thing  now. ' ' 

And  thus  was  the  now  famous  Polar  Bearskin  trial  opened. 

Mar.— " Mr.  Montifield,  call  the  jury." 

Mr.  Montifield  reads — "Messrs.  Wadleigh,  Levante,  Hock, 
Durand,  Morency  and  Shropshire. " 

The  first  five  answer  to  their  names  and  take  the  seats  of 
honor  to  the  left  of  the  acting  judge. 

Mar.  —  •  •  Where 's  Shropshire  1 ' ' 

Mont. — "He'll  be  here  in  a  minute." 

Mar. — Xcver  mind  him,  we'll  go  ahead  without  him." 

apt.    St<»rcy— "If   it   pleases   the   court,    that's    only   five 
jurors. ' ' 


120  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

Mar. — '  *  Never  you  mind ;  five 's  just  as  good  as  six ;  it 's  none 
of  your  business  anyhow." 

Mar. — "Now,  Captain,  how  about  that  bear  skin?" 

Storey— "What  bear  skin?" 

Mar. — "The  one  I  took  from  your  cabin?" 

Storey — "I  don't  know  anything  about  it;  you  took  it  from 
the  Columbia  Navigation  Company;  it  was' freight  in  transit 
to  Dawson." 

Mar. — "Never  mind  that;  what  I  want  to  know  is,  who  owns 
it?" 

Storey — "Look  here,  Marshal,  what  am  I  in  this  case  any- 
how? Am  I  the  plaintiff,  the  defendant,  or  a  witness;  and  I'd 
like  to  know  by  what  right  you,  a  Deputy  U.  S.  Marshal,  or 
anyone  else  has  to  go  to  my  cabin  and  take  anything  out  with- 
out any  legal  measures  being  taken?" 

Mar. — "I  knew  you'd  kick.  You're  always  kicking;  you're 
a  regular  calamity  howler  anyway. ' ' 

Storey — "That's  just  what  I'm  here  for;  I  get  paid  for 
that."  ' 

Mar. — "When  we  take  anything  we  take  it,  and  that's  all 
all  there  is  to  it. " 

Storey — "I  know  you  do;  that's  just  where  my  kick  comes 
in." 

Mar. — "Well,  shut  up  now  and  tell  us  who  this  robe  be- 
longs to.". 

Storey — "I  don't  know  what  robe  you're  talking  about." 

Mar.  (getting  hot) — "I'll  damn  soon  show  you." 

Marshal  goes  to  his  office  and  comes  back  with  a  Polar  bear 
skin  rolled  and  tied  with  a  rope. 

Mar. — "There's  the  robe;  now  who  owns  it?  That's  the 
question. ' ' 

Voice  from  the  Audience — "Open  'er  up,  Frank,  and  let's 
have  a  look  at  it. ' ' 

Note — The  Marshal  at  this  moment  took  a  notion  to  inform 
the  jury  as  to  the  reason  they  were  in  court,  so  he  explained  it 
as  follows:  "This  case  or  suit  is  brought  to  prove  that  that 
man  French  owns  this  robe.  You  see  lie  owes  the  N.  A.  T.  & 
T.  Co.  $40  or  $50  for  rent  or  something  and  they  have  a  claim 
against  him  for  that  amount.  I  seized  the  robe  for  that  claim, 
and  French  now  claims  that  it  is  not  his.  Judge  Crance  wants 


OR,  THE, WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  121 

to  act  fair  in  the  matter,  so  lie  is  letting  me  decide  this  thing, 
as  he  is  an  interested  party." 

"Mr.  Alontifield,  what  do  you  know  about  this  rol» 

Montifield — "I'm  sure  I  can't  recognize  it  to  be  the  robe." 

Alar. — '"Didn't  you  ever  see  it  before.'" 

Montifield — "I  can't  say  for  sure.  I'm  supposed  to  be  under 
oath,  ain't  I!" 

Mar. — "Well,  'er  yes;  you're  supposed  to  be,  but  then  it 
ain't  necessary  to  swear  you  in  a  case  like  this.  It'll  be  over 
in  a  minute." 

Montifield — "I  can't  swear  to  that  one;  I  can't  say  that  I 
have  ever  seen  it  before." 

Mar. — "French  tried  to  sell  you  a  robe,  didn't  he!  Tell  us 
all  about  it." 

Montifield — "I  went  to  his  cabin  and  saw  a  robe  there,  and 
he  asked  me  if  I  wanted  to  buy  it,  but  I  can't  say  that  this 
is  the  robe." 

Storey — "That  robe  belongs  to  Scates,  and  when  he  went 
to  Dawson  he  gave  it  to  Captain  Seigass  who  entered  it  as 
freight  in  transit  to  Dawson  for  the  Col.  Nav.  Co." 

Alar. — ••  Never  mind  all  that;  have  you  got  a  receipt  from 
Scates?" 

Storey — "No,  I  don't  need  one  till  I  land  the  bearskin  in 
Dawson. ' ' 

Alar.— "Here,  French,  what  do  you  know  about  this  robe?" 

French  walks  out  from  the  audience  and  eyes  the  robe 
critically. 

French — "I  don't  know  anything  about  it." 

Alar. — ' i  Didn  't  you  ever  see  it  before  ? ' ' 

French—' '  I  don 't  know. ' ' 

Here  the  jailor  and  his  prisoners  poke  their  heads  out  of  the 
cooler,  and  the  Alarshal  turns  to  them  with  the  query  of: 

"How's  everything  in  there,  Jake?"  (Then  turning  to 
French) :  "What  do  you  know ? ' ' 

French— "  Nothing. " 

Alar. — "Don't  you  own  it?" 

French— "No,  sir." 

Alar. — "I  think  it's  yours  anyhow." 

French — "That's  your  privilege,  sir." 

Alar. — 'What  do  you  know  about  this  robe?" 

French  (with  a  long  face)— "I  know  nothing." 


122  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

Mar. — "Well,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  you  have  all  the  evi- 
dence; now  we  await  your  decision;  who  owns  this  bearskin  ?" 

Wadleigh  (a  juror) — "Nobody  seems  to  own  it;  it  don't  be- 
long to  Scates  or  Storey  or  French  or  you.  I'll  take  it;  give 
it  to  me." 

Levante  (another  juror) — "Hold  on  there;  we've  all  got  a 
finger  in  this  skin.  Let 's  play  skiff  for  it. ' ' 

Just  about  this  time  the  whole  court — spectators,  acting 
judge  and  all — were  in  danger  of  going  into  convulsions  from 
continued  laughter. 

Mar. — "Well,  you  must  decide.  You  can  go  into  my  office 
and  deliberate." 

Storey — "I  suppose  you're  through  with  me,  and  as  I've  got 
work  to  do,  I  ask  to  be  excused." 

Mar. — "You  can  just  stay  where  you  are  for  a  few  minutes." 

Storey  (hot)— "What  am  I  in  this  case,  anyhow?" 

Mar.—"  You  're  the  defendant." 

Storey — "Then  as  the  defendant  I  move  that  the  case  be 
dismissed  and  the  bearskin  be  returned  to  where  it  was  taken 
from. ' ' 

Mar. — "We  return  nothing." 

Storey — "You're  right;  I  never  knew  you  to  return  anything 
you  once  laid  your  hands  on." 

The  jury  files  out.  During  the  time  the  jury  is  out  every- 
body, Marshal,  and  all,  indulge  in  a  smoke.  Big  Theodore 
Whollers  tries  to  impose  on  the  Marshal's  good  nature  by  put- 
ting on  his  hat,  but  the  Marshal  cut  him  short  with  the  order 
to  l  i  Take  off  your  hat ;  take  off  that  hat,  or  give  me  a  cigar. ' ' 

The  hat  comes  off.  At  this  time  the  Marshal  must  see  his 
prisoners  in  the  cooler  so  he  tries  to  open  the  door,  but  find- 
ing it  locked,  he  pushed  in  vain.  Then  he  tried  to  tear  off  the 
cheesecloth  covering;  when  it  was  half  off  the  jailer  opened  the 
door  and  the  voice  of  the  Marshal  was  heard  asking  the  same 
old  question,  "How's  things  in  there,  Jake?"  To  reassure 
himself  he  went  to  look,  and  while  he  was  in  there  the  jury 
returned  with  their  verdict. 

Wadleigh  (with  a  sheet  of  paper  in  his  hands) — "Whar's 
the  judge?" 

Just  then  the  judge  returns. 

' '  What 's  your  verdict,  gentlemen  ? ' ' 

Wadleigh — "There  it  is  on  that  paper  on  the  desk." 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  123 

Mar.  (examining  paper  on  lx)tli  sides) — "Where  is  it?" 

Wadleigh— "Here;  I'll  read  it." 

Wadleigh,  as  foreman  "of  the  jury,  then  reads:  "Circle,  May 
4th,  'W,  we  the  undersigned  jurors  in  the  trial  of  a  polar  bear 
skin  find  that  it  belongs  to  nobody  in  particular;  so  we'll  keep 
it  for  ten  days  and  give  the  owner  a  chance  to  prove  his  prop- 
erty. If  it  is  still  unsettled  at  the  end  of  that  time  we  will 
play  sluff  and  see  who  gets  it  for  keeps.  Signed,  F.  Wadleigh, 
(Charles  Levante,  A!  Morency,  Teddy  Hock,  Joe  Durand." 

The  man  who  succeeds  in  Alaska  is  the  fellow  commonly 
known  as  a  "hustler".  He  has  a  finger  in  every  pie  that  is 
cut,  and  grabs  as  large  a  piece  as  possible;  on  the  other  hand, 
the  man  who  sits  still  with  his  thumb  in  his  mouth  will  either 
spend  the  balance  of  his  days  here  or  go  out  poor.  The  first 
mayor  of  the  town  of  Teller  belonged  to  the  former  class,  and 
the  following  written  for  an  entertainment  in  this  mining  camp 
by  Judge  diaries  Udell,  is  true  in  fact  as  well  as  amusing: 

A  BRIEF  HISTORY  OF  TELLER. 


Dedicated  to  the  Founder  of  the  Teller  Masonic  Club. 

A  year  ago  this  icebound  coast 
Was  solitude  and  ice  and  frost, 
Lone  mountains  in  chill  snowpeaks  lost, 
White  plains  by  human  foot  uncrossed, 
Unconscious  of  the  coming  host. 

But  the  Anglo-Saxon  was  seeking  gold— 

The  days  of  the  Esquimaux  were  being  told— 

A  human  tide  toward  the  northland  rolled, 

Undaunted  by  storm,  or  famine,  or  cold, 

For  had  they  not  Wilson,  Tom  Wilson,  the  bold? 

A  city  was  planned  in  which  to  allot 

Space  for  a  home  to  each  brave  Argonaut, 

Then,  like  true  Saxons  they  staked,  jumped  and  fought. 

'Twas  ruled  that  each  could  stake  but  one  spot, 

And  Wilson, — well,  Tom  Wilson,  he  got  a  lot! 


124  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

A  Council  was  formed  to  raise  revenue, 
The  townlet  to  care  for,  its  future  to  hew, 
And  seven  were  chosen,  our  acts  to  review- 
Seven  wise  Solons,  all  good  men  and  true, 
Tom  Wilson,  of  course,  was  one  of  these  few. 

Then  a  mayor  was  needed  to  govern  the  town, 
To  levy  our  taxes  and  do  things  up  brown, 
And  as  only  one  could  have  that  renown, 
All  of  the  others  stepped  quietly  down, 
And  Tom  Wilson  donned  the  mayoralty  crown. 

Uncle  Sam  had  provided  a  judge  for  the  place, 
Forgetting  that  Wilson  was  in  every  race. 
The  certain  result  was,  of  judges,  a  brace.; 
For  Tom  opened  a  court  with  infinite  grace, 
And  presided  o  'er  many  a  lot  jumping  case. 

But  Uncle  Sam  grew  wise  from  that  little  fight, 
And  knowing  three  postmasters  wouldn't  look  right, 
Messrs.  Brevig  and  Morse  made  haste  to  alight 
From  the  Postoffice  chairs  they  were  holding  down  tight, 
And  the  government  asked  pardon  for  its  brief  oversight. 

But  time  is  short,  the  subject  great, 
The  rest  but  briefly  I'll  relate; 
How  groceries  started,  large  and  new, 
And  Thomas  Wilson  started  one  too; 
Stores  for  clothing  and  cap  and  shoe; 

How  each  found  Wilson  a  rival  too; 
How  saloons  were  opened  for  mountain  dew, 
And  how  Tom  Wilson  was  right  there  too; 
How  restaurants  came  where  all  could  chew; 
And  Wilson  promptly  opened  one  too; 

Hotels  and  lodgings  not  a  few; 

But  both  found  Wilson  in  the  business  too. 

Stables  on  alley  and  avenue, 

And  Wilson  at  once  built  stables,  too; 

'Gene  Allen  his  news  plant  to  Teller  drew, 


OR,  THE, WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  125 

But  found  Wilson  and  Rickey  with  a  paper  too. 
Kief,  Bogers  and  Stephens  did  real  estate  too ; 
Which  caused  Wilson  to  start  in  real  estate  too; 
The  lawyers  arrived,  but  they  all  felt  blue 
When  they  found  Wilson  practiced  and  won  cases  too ; 

How  the  Koogrock  tiger  came  into  view, 
But  found  Tom  with  a  limit  of  one  and  two; 
How  Meacham  came  our  souls  to  subdue, 
.But  Tom,  not  content  with  engaging  a  pew, 
Started  sacred  concerts  at  his  place,  too. 

Good  people  of  Teller,  when  you  bid  life  adieu, 
In  a  large  corner  of  heaven  you'll  find  Wilson  too; 
Yet  the  poets  of  Teller  when  their  crimes  they  rue, 
Condemned  for  bad  verses  to  an  eternal  stew, 
Will  not  be  all  lonely  with  no  one  they  knew, 
For  Tom  wouldn't  be  happy  unless  there  too. 

Every  miner  knows  that  he  can  stake  twenty  acres  of  un- 
appropriated Government  land  in  Alaska  for  placer  mining 
purposes.  The  boundaries  must  be  properly  marked  and  also 
'the  exact  location  of  the  claim  given  on  the  notice  posted  on 
the  ground,  and  a  copy  of  which  must  be  filed  within  ninety 
days  with  the  recorder  of  the  local  mining  district.  In  the 
spring  of  1901  a  native  approached  the  recorder  of  the  Good 
Hope  District  on  the  Arctic,  with  the  following  for  record: 
"I  claim  Little  River;  maybe  money;  maybe  not.  Octuk, 
Alaska."  Another  by  a  white  man  filed  in  the  Nome  country 
was  almost  as  bad.  It  read  as  follows:  "I  locate  this  (descrip- 
tion of  ground)  for  Ole  and  me."  There  was  no  name  signed. 
Some  of  the  natives,  however,  are  much  brighter  and  better 
educated  than  the  one  who  wrote  the  location  notice  just  quoted. 
The  following  letter  written  by  an  Eskimo  is  in  my  possession; 
the  handwriting  is  fair — as  good  in  fact  as  that  of  the  average 
white  man. 

"Penny,  July  24,  1900. 

Mr.  Billee  Langdon: — For  you  buy  some  of  little  rubber 
boots;  will  come  see  you  soon,  Billie,  and  tell  you  my  mamma 
dead,  Sunday,  July  22,  1900.  Very  truly, 

EDDIE  KORBLE." 


126  •  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

The  local  courts  are  kept  busy  in  the  winter  time  with  dog 
cases.  In  the  summer  these  animals  are  not  used  frequently 
and  are  therefore  not  so  much  of  a  "casus  belli".  The  con- 
verse is  true  of  mining  suits,  six  or  eight  feet  of  snow  puts  a 
damper  on  this  class  of  cases,  but  the  summer  crop  is  numerous. 
There  are  probably  more  dogs  stolen  in  winter  in  Alaska  than 
in  all  the  balance  of  Uncle  Sam's  dominions.  I  was  very  much 
amused  at  a  case  which  came  under  my  notice  a  short  time 
since.  A  tall,  gaunt-looking  fellow  was  driving  a  beautiful 
team  of  five  dogs  through  the  main  street  of  Teller,  when 
another  fellow  about  equally  matched  in  size  came  rushing 
out  from  a  store,  and  grabbing  the  front  dog,  said  to  the 
driver,  "See  here,  you  are  the  fellow  that  stole -my  leader,  are- 
you  ? "  He  at  once  began  to  unhitch  the  animal  from  the  sled ; 
we  all  looked  for  one  of  the  customary  rough  and  tumble  fights. 
But  no!  The  driver  assumed  a  broad  grin,  and  as  the  dog  was 
being  led  away,  sang  in  plaintive  melody  to  the  tune  of  a  popu- 
lar ballad,  ""Well,  I  guess  I'll  have  to  get  a  leader  of  my  own." 
A  short  description  of  winter  life  in  an  Arctic  mining  camp 
may  not  be  uninteresting  to  the  reader.  As  before  stated  1  spent 
that  season  of  the  year  during  1900-1  at  the  celebrated  town  of 
Teller.  The  natives  say  it  w^as  the  most  terrible  winter  that 
has  been  known  for  many  years.  The  thermometer  frequently 
went  as  low  as  45  degrees  to  50  degrees  below  zero.  This  tem- 
perature is  as  dangerous  to  life  here  as  80  degrees  below  would 
be  at  Dawson,  or  any  other  place  where  the  wind  does  not 
blow;  the  snow  was  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet  in  some  parts  of 
the  camp,  thus  entirely  covering  up  many  of  the  cabins  or 
"shacks"  of  the  miners.  The  place  had  sprung  up  mushroom- 
like  late  in  the  preceding  fall,  and  there  being  no  wood  nearer 
than  eighteen  miles,  and  coal  being  a  very  scarce  and  high- 
priced  article,  the  illy-prepared  sojourner  suffered  terribly. 
Not  a  day  passed  that  from  one  to  a  dozen  persons  were  not 
more  or  less  seriously  frozen.  Four  were  frozen  to  death  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  town.  One  man  froze  his  hands 
while  locking  his  cabin  door.  Two  or  three  saloons  kept  a 
hot  fire  going  all  the  time,  although  coal  was  one  hundred 
dollars  a  ton,  and  thus  furnished  places  where  the  freezing 
miner  could  be  somewhat  comfortable.  They  each  lost  several 
hundred  dollars  by  this  kindness,  for  there  was  little  or  no 
money  in  the  pockets  of  their  guests  to  pay  for  drinks.  The 


OR,  THR  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  127 

men  who  spent  the  winter  around  these  public  stoves  were 
called  "chair  warmers" — stool  warmers  would  be  more  appro- 
priate, as  chairs  are  almost  an  unknown  luxury  in  a  mining 
camp.  These  men  hugged  the  fire  through  the  long,  dark, 
winter  days,  and  cussed  and  discussed  the  country  and  its 
hardships.  Many  a  man  had  nothing  but  frozen  canned  beans 
and  hard  tack  all  winter.  He  had  no  wood  or  coal  some- 
times, even  to  warm  up  the  former  article  of  diet.  The 
"meals"  at  the  restaurants  were  from  a  dollar  and  a  half  up. 
A  meal  consisted  of  reindeer  meat,  potatoes,  onions  and 
canned  fruit — all  in  a  frozen  state  before  being  cooked;  nothing 
fresh  except  the  breeze  that  entered  every  time  some  muffled 
figure  opened  the  double  doors;  then  a  cloud  of  vapor  would 
fill  the  end  of  the  room,  the  result  of  the  meeting  of  the  low 
tempered  outside  air  with  that  of  the  room.  The  ice  on  the 
windows  inside  would  frequently  be  two  or  three  inches  thick. 
The  salutation  that  the  new  arrival  from  outdoors  frequently 
received  was,  " Hello,  there!  Your  nose  is  frozen."  This  was 
indicated  by  its  marble  whiteness.  He  would  rush  out,  and 
rub  some  snow  over  it,  thus  thawing  it  out.  Sometimes  the 
whole  face  would  be  as  white  as  a  ghost— caused  in  coming  a 
distance  of  a  block  perhaps  in  the  freezing  cold.  The  dread 
of  the  chair  warmer  was  the  hour  when  hunger  or  the  closing 
of  the  saloon  drove  him  to  his  ice-lined  shack.  It  seems 
almost  impossible  that  human  endurance  could  withstand  the 
cold  that  these  men  nightly  passed  through  in  their  cabins — 
some  with  few  blankets  and  no  robes. 

( )ne  of  the  regular  chair  warmers  came  in  one  morning  and 
astounded  all  those  sitting  around  the  stove  by  announcing 
that  he  had  eggs  for  breakfast.  Beans  were  the  regulation 
diet,  so  all  were  anxious  to  know  about  how  he  happened  to 
irct  the  eggs.  k>Well,"  said  he,  "I  will  tell  you  how  it  wa>: 
I  was  in  a  store  yesterday,  and  the  clerk  told  me  that  they  had 
a  few  unfrozen  eggs.  I  sold  an  interest  in  a  claim  a  few  days 
ago,  .and  as  I  had  not  tasted  eggs  for  so  long  I  bought  half  a 
dozen  for  a  dollar.  I  only  had  a  little  wood  in  the  shack,  but 
1  put  it  all  in  my  Yukon  stove  this  morning  and  broke  the 
whole  half  dozen  eggs  into  my  frying  pan;  the  wood  burned 
out  about  the  time  they  were  cooked  on  one  side;  when  I 
started  to  eat  them  I  found  they  were  frozen  on  the  other  side. 
li.y  cabin  was  not  any  colder  than  usual,  either." 


128  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

A  few  days  after  this  another  man,  a  real  estate  agent  named 
Stephens,  came  into  the  saloon,  his  fur  cap  and  parka  covered 
with  ice,  and  after  standing  before  the  fire  a  few  minutes,  re- 
marked, "Well,  boys,  I  opened  a  can  of  beans  for  a  change, 
this  morning/' — he  got  no  further;  the  continued  roars  of 
laughter  that  broke  forth  drowned  all  explanations  that  he 
attempted. 

This  same  gentleman,  at  another  time,  told  us  that  when  he 
was  in  an  outfitting  store,  laying  in  his  supplies  preparatory 
to  coming  to  Nome,  the  clerk  asked  him  what  kind  of  shoe 
wear  he  wanted — at  the  same  time  handing  him  a  pair  of 
moccasins  to  examine.  He  looked  them  over  a  few  moments, 
and  finally  asked  whether  these  were  warmer  than  snowshoes. 
He  knows  better  now. 

Ananias  would  have  held  up  his  hands  in  horror  if  he  could 
have  heard  a  full-fledged  Alaskan  liar.  I  do  not  know  whether 
it  is  the  climate  or  because  of  the  great  latitude  here  (71  de- 
grees), but  the  fact  is  there  are  more  liars  to  the  square  mile 
in  this  country  than  in  any  other  place  on  earth  of  an  equal 
population.  Mrs.  Kose  H.  Leech,  an  Alaska  correspondent  of 
the  Chicago  Inter  Ocean,  once  read  an  interesting  essay  on  the 
subject  at  a  winter  entertainment  in  Teller;  it  was  as  follows. 

THE  ALASKAN  ANANIAS. 

Some  wise  man  has  said  that  there  are  three  classes  of  liars 
• — plain  liars,  liars  and  Yukoners.  The  plain  liar  is  the  man 
who  lies  to  protect  himself,  to  please  his  friends,  or  to  advance 
his  interests.  The  liar  lies  through  spite,  malice  and  envy; 
to  work  injury  upon  some  luckless  individual  who  has  been  so 
unfortunate  as  to  incur  his  displeasure;  the  amount  of  harm 
he  does  in  the  world  is  incalculable.  His  long  suit  is  his  ability 
to  take  the  truth,  and  by  a  few  simple  twists  of  the  tongue,  so 
distort  and  change  it  that  its  own  maternal  relative  would 
not  recognize  it  when  brought  face  to  face  with  it. 

But  the  Yukoner!  Ah,  who  can  do  justice  to  the  skill,  the 
grace,  the  enthusiasm,  and  the  unbounded  industry,  which  he 
displays  in  this,  his  chosen  vocation.  By  this,  of  course,  it  is 
not  meant  that  all  Yukoners  are  liars;  far  from  it.  But  when 
a  man  is  a  Yukoner  and  a  liar  the  combination  is  one  that  is 
a  world  beater.  This  Yukon  liar  is,  as  a  rule,  a  lazy  mortal; 
he  believes  in  always  putting  off  until  tomorrow  what  should 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  129 

foe  done  today.  But  when  opportunity  offers  he  can  be  aroused 
to  an  effort,  which,  if  otherwise  applied,  would  have  elevated 
him  to  the  pinnacle  of  fame  and  fortune  long  ere  this.  Some- 
where in  the  dim  and  distant  past,  he  has  heard  that  the  devil 
is  the  father  of  lies,  and  he  has  a  laudable  ambition  to  add  to 
Mephisto's  large  and  interesting  family.  He  has  also  been 
told  to  "tell  the  truth  and  shame  the  devil,"  but  with  a  zeal 
incomparable  the  Yukoner  has  thus  far  managed  to  avoid 
bringing  the  blush  of  shame  to  the  countenance  of  that  ruler  of 
the  under  world. 

He  is  a  genial  liar,  this  Yukoner,  and  for  the  ordinary  lies 
of  life  he  needs  make  no  effort;  they  roll  from  his  lips  as  reg- 
ularly and  as  smoothly  as  do  compliments  from  the  lips  of  a 
sour  dough  man  in  conversation  with  a  cheechako  girl. 

It  is  only  when  brought  into  conjunction  with  another  sour 
dough  liar  that  the  Yukoner  is  at  his  best.  Then  indeed  are  his 
flights  of  fancy  as  high  as  Mount  Olympus,  and  his  fluency  of 
language  unequalled  by  any  save  that  possessed  by  the  silver- 
tongued  W.  J.  Bryan.  It  has  always  been  thought  that  no 
cheechako  could  compete  with  him  in  the  arena  of  prevarica- 
tion but  it  now  develops  that  a  certain  Alaska  judge  has  a 
friend  from  the  outside — the  cheechako  lady  in  the  sour  dough 
camp  of  Nome — whom  he  is  willing  to  back  against  the 
Yukoner  any  day,  feeling  confident  that  the  Yukoner  would 
be  humbled  down  to  the  tundra. 

To  the  Yukoner  lies  are  as  beer  and  skittles,  cakes  and  ale. 
If  'twere  possible  to  condemn  him  to  pass  three  weeks  with- 
out indulging  in  Munchausen-like  narratives,  he  would  pine 
away  and  soon  be  put  up  on  sticks.  He  doubtless  sometimes 
soliloquizes  after  the  following  fashion: 

"To  lie  or  not  to  lie;  that  is  the  question.  Whether  it  is 
easier  far  to  bear  the  lies  and  taunts  of  other  sour  doughs,  or 
to  take  arms  against  a  score  of  lies,  and  by  some  bigger  lying 
end  them."  He  always  decides  in  the  affirmative  of  course, 
and  after  siich  soliloquy  mounts  his  Pegasus  with  renewed 
ambition. 

Have  you  been  on  a  hunting  trip  and  killed  100  ptarmigan! 
The  Yukoner  has  many  times  killed  three  hundred  in  a  few 
moments.  Have  you  caught  forty  torn  cod  in  two  hours? 
The  Yukoner  makes  you  feel  that  as  a  disciple  of  Isaak  Walton 
you  are  a  failure  when  he  assures  you  lie  has  caught  400  in 


130  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

the  same  time.  Have  you  been  out  mushing  and  walked  from 
Shea's  road  house  to  Teller  in  a  day?  The  Yukoner  makes 
you  feel  what  a  poor  worm  of  a  cheechako  you  are  by  telling 
you  that  he  made  the  trip  from  Mary's  Eglow  to  Teller  and 
from  there  to  Nome  in  one  day.  Have  you  found  one  and  one- 
half  cents  to  the  pan  on  a  prospecting  trip  ?  The  Yukoner  has 
found  one  and  one-half  dollars.  Have  you  heard  that  three 
hundred  people  are  on  the  way  from  Dawson  to  Teller!  The 
Yukoner  tells  you  that  there  are  three  thousand.  I  have  heard 
recently  an  expression  which  appears  to  me  to  be  very  appli- 
cable to  this  propensity  of  the  Yukoner;  where  it  came  from 
I  do  not  know.  It  may  be  a  recent  arrival  from  the  Bowery, 
or  it  may  have  originated  in  the  fertile  brain  of  the  young  man 
whom  I  heard  use  it.  It  is  called,  "Peddling  the  bull."  I 
think  this  expression  fills  a  long  felt  want,  as  it  were.  Instead 
of  saying,  "Sir,  you  are  a  liar;  you  are  lying  to  me!"  one  can 
say  softly,  sweetly,  like  the  whispering  of  the  spring  winds 
through  the  boughs  of  a  pine  tree,  "Sir,  you  are  a  Yukoner! 
You  are  peddling  to  me." 

It  is  not  expected  that  every  Tellerite  will  understand  this 
dissertation;  those  who  have  lived  in  Dawson  and  Nome  will 
of  course  do  so,  but  as  yet  the  Yukoner  does  not  dwell  within 
our  gates,  and  it  is  possible  that  for  that  reason  some  may  fail 
to  appreciate  it.  But  as  "all  things  come  to  him  who  waits" 
we  may  yet  point  with  pride  to  our  progress,  and  Teller  need 
no  longer  rest  under  the  ban  of  being  the  only  Alaskan  town 
of  any  size  without  its  own  bright,  particular  Yukoner. ' ' 

There  is  a  phase  of  life  in  the  northland  to  which  I  intended 
to  devote  a  whole  chapter.  It  is  the  moral,  or  rather  the  im- 
moral side.  I  have  changed  my  mind,  however,  and  will  take 
it  up  briefly  at  this  time.  Morality  in  nearly  all  mining  camps 
the  world  over  is  almost  an  unknown  quantity.  The  reasons 
for  this  are  manifold.  Mining  communities  are  generally  made 
up  of  young  or  middle-aged  men  of  bold,  adventurous  spirit, 
who,  while  generous  and  good-hearted,  were  not,  even  at  home, 
particularly  scrupulous  about  their  morals.  There  is  always 
more  or  less  of  a  sprinkling  of  the  real  desperado  present.  The 
conditions  are  all  favorable  to  him.  The  law  is  not  as  strict 
as  it  is  in  the  older  communities. 

Again,  he  has  more  or  less  of  a  desire  to  make  a  good  ap- 
pearance before  his  relatives  and  friends,  but  in  a  mining 


OR,  THE>  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  131 

camp,  especially  one  so  far  away  as  Alaska,  lie  is  a  stranger 
among  strangers.  A  miner's  money  comes  easily,  and  is  apt 
to  go  in  the  same  way.  There  are  five  saloons  to  any  other 
one  class  of  business.  Almost  every  saloon  has  from  one  to  a 
dozen  gambling  games  open  night  and  day.  With  all  restraint 
off,  the  temptation  to  drink  and  gamble  is  almost  irresistible 
as  long  as  the  "poke"  (purse)  holds  out.  The  man  who 
comes  to  the  dreary  northland  stakes  his  life  against  a  fortune, 
and  very  frequently  loses. 

Probably  the  most  potent  reason  for  the  laxity  of  morals  in 
a  far-away  mining  camp  is  the  absence  of  the  refining  influence 
of  good  women.  I  do  not  desire  to  be  understood  that  there 
are  not  good  women  in  Alaska,  but  the  ratio  of  women  to  men 
is  very,  very  small  and  the  ratio  of  good  women  to  immoral 
ones  is  still  smaller. 

If  a  mining  claim  is  of  any  value  at  all  it  is  probably  worth 
a  fortune.  The  miner  who  is  in  possession  and  thinks  his  title 
is  good  will  be  apt  to  guard  it  with  his  life,  after  having  under- 
gone so  many  hardships  to  get  it.  The  laws  are  loose  and 
there  is  no  dearth  of  excuses  for  claim  "jumping".  During 
the  mining  season,  shooting  scrapes  are  of  almost  daily  occur- 
rence. Frequently  there  are  a  number  of  men  engaged  on 
each  side,  and  a  small  but  deadly  battle  is  the  result. 

The  sight  of  a  drunken  miner  with  a  fat  "poke"  is  more 
than  the  cupidity  of  the  desperado  can  stand,  and  murders  are 
by  no  means  uncommon  in  the  northland.  There  are  compara- 
tively few  churches  in  the  country — saloons,  dance  halls  and 
gambling  houses  are  far  more  plentiful. 

Gentle  reader,  in  conclusion  it  is  just  this  way: 

WHEN  A  MAN'S  IN  ALASKA. 

Of  all  the  insidious, 

Temptations  invidious 

Contrived  by  the  devil  for  making  men  bold, 

There's  none  more  delusive, 

Seductive,  obtrusive, 

Than  the  snare  to  a  man  in  that  land  of  coarse  gold. 

He  feels  such  delightfulness, 

Stay-out-all-nightfulness 

Sure-to-get-tight-fulness? 

I  own  it  with  pain, 


132  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

A  bachelor  rakishness, 

What-will-you-take-ishness 

None  can  explain. 

His  wife  may  be  beautiful, 

Tender  and  dutiful, 

'Tis  not  that  her  absence 

Would  cause  him  delight: 

But  the  cursed  opportunity, 

Baleful  immunity, 

Scatters  his  scruples  as  day  scatters  night. 

The  spirit  of  sportfulness, 

Full-as-a-goatfulness, 

Upset-the-boat-fulness, 

Goes  with  the  gold  seeker  wherever  he  be, 

A  dare-devil  jokefulness, 

Bet  the  whole  pokefulness, 

So  sad  to  see. 

The  girls  may  be  plentiful, 

Social  and  ventureful, 

He 's  sure  that  his  family 

Think 's  him  a  saint. 

But  the  wicked  community, 

Gives  opportunity, 

To  the  fellow  whose  habits  are  not  under  restraint. 


CHAPTER  X. 
THE  DISTRICTS  ADJACENT  TO  NOME  AND  TELLER. 


When  California  was  acquired  by  the  United  States  as  one 
of  the  trophies  of  the  war  with  Mexico,  the  calamity  howlers 
sat  on  their  hind  legs  and  wailed  more  dolefully  than  a  dis- 
consolate Malamoot  dog.  They  said  it  was  a  barren  waste  of 
rugged  mountains  and  arid  plains,  the  home  of  sage  brush 
and  cacti,  and  the  habitat  of  coyotes  and  grizzly  bears.  But 
the  discovery  of  gold  in  California  worked  a  transformation. 
The  gold  hunters  found  the  most  equable  climate  in  North 
America,  and  a  soil  of  unexcelled  fertility.  Now  grain  fields 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  133 

and  vast  orchards  cover  those  arid  plains,  and  on  the  slopes 
of  those  rugged  mountains  one  can  see  the  largest  vineyards 
in  the  world.  California  is  the  home  of  fifteen  hundred 
thousand  people,  and  her  exports  reach  every  principal  port 
of  the  world. 

When  William  H.  Seward  completed  the  negotiations  for 
the  purchase  of  Alaska,  the  same  doleful  dirge  was  chanted 
by  those  who  saw  nothing  in  Alaska  but  icebergs  and  Polar 
bears.  Eventually,  fur  seals  attracted  the  attention  of  capi- 
talists and  increased  their  riches.  The  salmon  canners  found 
Alaska  a  profitable  field  to  exploit,  but  they  did  not  advertise 
their  discovery,  because  competition  would  lessen  their  profits. 
It  remained  for  the  miner,  the  true  pioneer  of  civilization,  to 
tell  the  people  who  paid  $7,500,000  for  this  territory,  of  its 
great  wealth;  that  it  was  habitable,  that  the  opportunities  for 
making  money  and  acquiring  that  competence  we  all  hope 
and  strive  for,  are  better  here  than  in  any  other  part  of  Uncle 
Sam 's  domain.  Gold  is  not  the  only  mineral  in  Alaska.  There 
are  veins  of  coal  of  good  quality ;  there  are  quartz  ledges  show- 
ing copper  in  profitable  quantity;  there  are  deposits  of  the 
finest  graphite;  platinum,  some  pieces  weighing  an  ounce  or 
more,  have  been  found.  There  is  an  old  silver  mine  between 
Golovin  Bay  and  Norton  Sound  that  was  worked  by  the  Kus- 
sians  many  years  ago.  There  are  great  belts  of  good  timber 
in  Southern  Alaska,  and  better  agricultural  land  in  South- 
eastern Alaska  than  there  is  in  some  of  the  New  England 
States,  and  a  climate  in  many  places  not  more  severe;  plenty 
of  game,  and  fish  galore. 

The  discovery  of  gold  in  California  and  its  subsequent  de- 
velopment, will  be  paralleled  in  Alaska.  That  great  range  of 
mountains  which  extends  in  an  almost  continuous  chain  from 
Cape  Horn  to  the  Arctic  Ocean  has  proved  to  be  an  immense 
mineral  zone.  The  mysterious  laws  of  nature  that  have  de- 
posited more  wealth  in  some  sections  of  this  great  zone  than 
others,  have  been  lavish  with  Northwestern  Alaska.  Except 
in  some  of  the  great  belts  of  granite,  there  is  gold  everywhere, 
not  always  in  paying  quantities,  but  sometimes  in  fabulously 
rich  deposits.  The  country  has  only  been  partially  prospected, 
and  nothing  beyond  assays  has  been  done  to  determine  the 
value  of  the  numerous  quartz  ledges  that  have  been  located. 
There  are  thousands  of  claims  that  have  never  been  prospected, 


134  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

and  rich  strikes  are  frequently  heard  of  near  at  hand  on  ground 
that  had  been  traveled  over,  and  perhaps  partially  prospected. 
The  remote  unexplored  territory  is  extensive,  and  the  unpros- 
pected  claims  are  in  the  ratio  of  100  to  1. 

What  are  the  inevitable  deductions  of  these  facts  ?  There  is 
a  field  here  for  men  of  good  health,  strength  and  industry; 
there  are  opportunities  for  capital,  opportunities  for  invest- 
ments that  will  enrich  the  owner  and  help  develop  the  country, 
and  possibly,  chances  to  loan  money  and  get  as  much  interest 
in  a  month  as  could  be  obtained  in  a  year  in  some  localities. 
But  the  man  who  comes  here  takes  his  life  in  his  hands,  or, 
in  other  words,  stakes  his  life  against  a  fair  chance  to  make 
a  fortune. 

.  North  latitude  64  degrees  and  32  minutes,  west  longtitude 
165  degrees  and  30  minutes,  on  the  northern  shore  of  Bering 
Sea,  is  Nome.  A  few  years  ago  these  treeless  shores  looked 
bleak  and  cheerless  enough.  It  was  not  a  place  where  "every 
prospect  pleases,"  but  by  chance,  gold  was  discovered,  and 
during  the  summer  of  1900  there  were  fifteen  thousand  people 
in  Nome.  The  town  has  some  fine  buildings,  telephone  lines, 
a  railroad  to  the  mines  of  Anvil  Greek,  a  water  system  that 
brings  the  water  five  miles  from  the  mountains,  and  many 
other  improvements  that  belong  to  a  modern  city. 

Nome  is  situated  at  the  mouth  of  Snake  Eiver.  No  one  can 
realize  how  appropriate  the  name  of  this  river  is  until  he  has 
stood  upon  some  of  the  mountains  overlooking  it  and  viewed 
its  sinuous  course  to  the  sea.  The  principal  part  of  Nome  is 
east  of  the  river.  On  the  west  side  is  a  sandy  spit  or  point, 
covered  with  tents,  dwelling  houses,  a  number  of  small  stores, 
lumber  and  coal  yards.  The  beach  at  Nome  is  100  feet  wide, 
and  very  high  water  is  20  feet  above  mean  low  water.  The 
greatest  altitude  is  the  tundra,  or  flat  land,  that  lies  between 
the  sea  and  the  mountains.  The  tundra  is  a  moss-covered 
marsh,  full  of  pools  and  lagoons.  In  the  dryest  part  of  the 
summer  time,  one  can  walk  over  it  dry  shod  by  avoiding  the  low 
wet  spots,  but  when  it  rains  the  ' i  rocky  road  to  Dublin ' '  is  pref- 
erable. Long  hip  boots  and  a  courage  that  does  not  fear 
violent  exercise  are  indispensable. 

The  tundra  extends  back  to  the  mountains,  a  distance  of 
four  or  five  miles.  These  mountains  are  not  more  than  600  or 
700  feet  high,  and  are  covered  with  the  same  kind  of  mossy 


OR,  THE   WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  135 

vegetation  that  grows  on  the  lowlands.  The  only  evidence 
of  timber  are  thickets  of  small  willows,  perhaps  waist  high, 
near  the  creeks.  The  country  rock  is  a  mica  schist,  and  the 
croppings  are  very  conspicuous.  If  it  is  an  evidence  of  age 
to  be  gray  and  bald,  then  the  hills  of  Nome  belong  to  the 
Paleozoic  age.  The  greatest  altitude  of  these  mountains  is 
reached  in  the  Sawtooth  range,  forty  miles  to  the  north.  It 
was  in  this  range  I  had  my  dreadful  experience.  This  side  of 
the  range  the  water  flows  into  Bering  Sea,  and  numerous 
streams  with  their  feeders  flowing  from  every  compass  point 
cut  these  mountains  into  queer  shapes,  so  that  if  one  attempts 
to  follow  a  water  course  to  the  sea  he  would  have  a  mazy  road. 

The  theory  has  been  advanced  that  in  a  comparatively  recent 
geological  period,  the  earth's  axis  has  been  changed  by  a 
cataclysm.  The  shifting  of  the  poles  converted  a  warm  or 
temperate  zone  into  a  frigid  region,  and  made  a  complete 
change  in  the  forms  of  vegetable  and  animal  life.  In  support 
of  this  theory  are  found  the  remains  of  the  mastodon  im- 
bedded in  fields  of  Alaskan  ice,  traces  of  other  animals  in- 
digenous to  a  milder  climate,  in  addition  to  the  geological  evi- 
dence in  some  of  the  substratas  of  the  earth.  The  United 
States  Geological  Survey,  we  are  informed,  states  that  North- 
western Alaska  belongs  to  a  much  earlier  period  than  any  other 
part  of  the  western  section  of  the  United  States.  It  possibly 
may  be  classified  as  belonging  to  the  lower  stratas  of  the 
Paleozoic  age.  The  tundra  has  probably  been  made  by  the 
receding  waters  of  the  ocean.  It  is  known  that  the  waters  of 
the  Pacific,  on  the  west  coast  of  America,  are  receding  so  that 
in  the  course  of  a  century  several  feet  are  added  to  the  shore 
line.  In  the  tundra  are  found  evidences  of  this  in  the  form 
of  driftwood,  remains  of  sea  life  and  the  sand  stratas  of  the 
ocean  shore. 

In  Northwestern  Alaska,  and  particularly  in  the  territory 
contiguous  to  Nome,  the  mountains  are  not  precipitous,  but 
are  cut  up  by  numerous  streams  into  a  heterogenous  mass  of 
varying  altitudes,  the  ridges  trending  in  the  direction  of  the 
principal  streams.  The  highest  point  is  thirty-five  miles  north 
of  Nome,  Mt.  Osborn,  in  the  Sawtooth  range,  4800  feet.  Geol- 
ogists assert  that  there  is  no  evidence  of  glacial  disturbance 
in  this  country,  but  the  sharp  edges  of  float  show  that  the 
action  of  water  has  not  been  the  principal  agency  in  depositing 


136  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

this  kind  of  rock  where  it  is  found,  and  the  twisted,  contorted 
condition  of  the  bedrock  and  frequent  displacement  indicate  a 
disturbing  force  that  can  not  be  attributed  to  the  numerous 
slides. 

Nome  and  Teller  are  situated  in  one  of  the  greatest  mineral 
zones  of  Northwest  Alaska.  The  country  rock,  mica  schist, 
is  frequently  found  as  bedrock,  decomposed  so  that  a  pick  and 
shovel  easily  removes  it.  The  entire  surface  of  this  part  of 
the  earth,  except  in  the  river  beds  and  where  rock  crops,  is 
covered  with  moss,  beneath  which  there  is  a  very  scant  alluvial 
deposit.  The  superstratas  of  bedrock,  which  is  of  varying 
depth,  but  seldom  very  deep,  are  clay  and  sand.  Many  quartz 
ledges  doubtless  exist  in  this  formation  but  they  are  covered 
with  moss  and  difficult  to  find.  Those  that  have  been  discov- 
ered lay  exposed  by  streams  or  the  sea. 

Between  the  mineral  zones  are  belts  of  coarse  granite,  their 
dark  dykes  cropping  in  rugged  outline  and  sharp  contrast  to 
the  light  shale  of  the  mineralized  part  of  the  country. 

One  of  the  most  agreeable  surprises  to  the  Nome  or  Teller 
summer  visitor  is  the  climate.  He  expects  to  find  cold,  rainy, 
disagreeable  weather,  and  prepares  for  it  with  heavy  woolen 
underwear,  and  outer  garments  of  oilskin  and  rubber.  But  he 
finds  the  ordinary  clothing  worn  in  San  Francisco  and  Seattle 
more  comfortable.  The  days  are  bright  and  warm  and  the 
early  summer  is  dry,  too  dry  to  please  the  miners. 

The  greatest  variation  of  temperature  is  probably  from  50 
degrees  below  in  winter  to  70  degrees  above  in  summer.  For 
these  places  of  recent  settlement  an  accurate  meteorological 
record  can  not  be  given.  Such  a  record  would  not  convey  a 
complete  idea  of  the  temperature  and  meteorological  condi- 
tions. It  is  possible  for  conditions  to  exist  where  50  degrees 
below  zero  is  more  comfortable  than  30  below  in  some  other 
locality.  Besides,  simple  figures  do  not  tell  the  story  of  the 
facts  they  record;  so,  if  the  reader  will  follow  us  through  the 
seasons  we  will  endeavor  to  impart  the  knowledge  of  experi- 
ence. "All's  well  that  ends  well";  so  we  will  begin  with 
autumn  and  end  with  summer. 

September,  and  shorter  days  and  colder  nights  are  on  picket 
duty  for  winter;  some  mornings  there  are  frost  and  thin  ice, 
while  back  in  the  mountains  heavy  snows  fall.  The  wind 
blows,  sometimes  furiously.  The  southeast  gales  sweep  over 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  137 

Bering  Sea,  and  make  the  destructive  storms  of  Nome.  Teller, 
luring  on  a  small  bay,  does  not  suffer  so  much.  These  gales 
usually  last  two  or  three  days,  and  are  succeeded  by  a  few 
days  of  fair  weather.  The  wind  is  unsteady,  shifting  to  all 
points  of  the  compass.  The  atmosphere  is  laden  with  moisture 
and  frequent  precipitations  result.  There  are  squalls  and 
drizzles,  but  there  are  calms  and  sunshine.  October  differs 
only  in  temperature,  but  frequently,  the  natives  tell,  there 
have  been  weeks  of  splendid  weather  during  these  months. 

During  the  month  of  November  the  snow  falls  thick  and 
fast.  There  is  muchice  in  Bering  Sea,  and  quietly  the  ice  floats 
downward  from  the  north.  Some  mornings  the  people  of  these 
towns  awaken  and  behold  this  restless  sea  a  silent  field  of  ice. 
Winter  is  here;  the  snow  blows  and  drifts  and  the  north  wind 
"  is  a  nipping  and  an  eager  air. ' '  But  so  gradual  has  been  his 
approach,  and  so  well  prepared  is  everybody  that  business  is 
not  suspended  nor  work  impeded  to  any  great  extent,  except  in 
bad  winters  like  the  one  of  1900-1.  The  days  are  short  and  the 
nights  long,  but  the  great  white  robe  of  the  cold  earth  pre- 
vents the  darkness  that  otherwise  would  make  the  nights 
dreary.  Houses  are  made  tight  and  comfortable.  Men  with 
dog  teams  travel  over  the  country,  and  the  ordinary  affairs  of 
life  pursue  the  even  tenor  of  their  way,  very 'much  the  same 
as  in  New  England  or  Canada.  Some  days  are  very  cold,  but  the 
thermometer  in  an  ordinary  winter  is  frequently  and  for  days 
above  zero.  And  thus  the  winter  passes. 

Spring  is  heralded  by  chinooks  or  warm  winds,  and,  as 
gradually  as  he  approaches,  winter  departs.  The  longer  and 
warmer  days  are  loosening  the  icy  grip  that  clasps  the  earth 
and  holds  the  waters  imperceptibly  as  seen  from  day  to  day, 
but  surely,  as  the  weeks  pass.  The  ice  breaks,  forms  again, 
and  breaks  until  some  fine  day  in  May  or  June  it  floats  away, 
and  the  rytlimical  pulsebeats  of  Bering  Sea  are  heard  again. 
The  people  wait  anxiously  and  look  longingly  for  the  first 
steamer  that  will  restore  commercial  relations  with  the  out- 
side world.  They  had  watched  the  last  outgoing  vessel  with 
a  feeling  of  isolation,  and  as  the  desire  for  a  nearer  touch  of 
the  great  human  family  is  soon  to  be  realized  there  is  pleasure 
in  its  contemplation.  The  spring  has  passed. 

The  summer  begins  with  fine  weather.  The  sun  is  bright  and 
warm  and  the  earth  responds  to  his  genial  rays  by  sending 


138        •  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

up  grass  where  the  moss  has  not  protected  the  frost,  and  wild 
flowers  in  astonishing  variety  and  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
delicate  colors.  During  the  month  of  June  ' '  there  is  no  night ; 
what  seems  so  is  transition"  from  twilight  to  dawn.  From 
June  until  August,  Nome  and  Teller  might  be  seaside  resorts. 
The  waves  of  the  sea  idly  lap  the  shore.  Women  wear  white 
shirt  waists  and  screen  their  faces  from  the  sun  with  parasols. 
The  hills  back  of  these  towns  are  a  delightful  place  for  a  ramble 
if  one  loves  pretty  flowers.  The  atmosphere  is  invigorating. 

This  is  a  treeless  country.  For  many  miles  back  into  the 
mountains  the  only  evidence  of  timber  is  willow  thickets  on 
the  creeks  and  gulches.  These  willows  attain  a  height  of 
three  or  four  feet.  They  burn  quickly,  but  make  good  fuel, 
and  are  utilized  by  miners  and  prospectors.  It  is  probably 
fifty  miles  from  Nome  in  the  direction  of  Council  City  to  the 
timber  line.  The  timber  one  finds  here  is  spruce,  big  enough 
for  cabin  logs,  but  not  an  inviting  field  for  the  lumber  industry. 

The  great  reach  of  bare  hills  and  mountains  does  not  make 
the  most  charming  ^perspective,  but  an  agreeable  surprise 
awaits  anyone  who  travels  over  this  country  during  the  month 
of  July.  He  will  forget  all  about  the  perspective  in  contem- 
plation of  the  "beauty  of  his  immediate  surroundings.  The 
moss  is  a  carpet  in  all  shades  of  brown,  and  verdant  spots 
adorn  many  places  where  there  are  soil  and  sunshine.  The 
flowers  are  beautiful ;  little  ones  that  belong  to  the  daisy  family 
are  everywhere;  forget-me-nots  with  the  richest  fragrance, 
adorn  the  benches  and  in  moist  spots  the  stately  fleur  de  lis 
as  they  bend  with  the  breeze,  greet  the  passerby;  buttercups 
make  one  think  of  the  Mikado  air  "The  flowers  that  bloom 
in  the  spring;"  but  the  most  beautiful  flower  of  them  all  is  the 
pansy,  a  wee,  delicate  thing,  hiding  its  rare  beauty  near  the 
earth  and  beneath  the  greater  effulgence  of  its  more  gorgeous 
sisters.  The  writer  has  never  seen  this  little  beauty,  with  its 
delicate  blending  tints,  except  in  the  Santa  Cruz  mountains, 
California.  It  grows  there,  but  not  to  greater  perfection  than 
it  does  in  the  hills  of  Nome  and  Teller.  These  are  a  few  of 
the  old  favorites  you  can  find  in  this  part  of  Alaska,  but  there 
are  many  varieties.  In  a  space  of  ten  feet  square  twenty 
varieties  of  wild  flowers  have  been  gathered.  They  are  not 
of  such  luxuriant  growth  as  the  same  varieties  in  a  more  tern- 


OR,  THE   WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  139 

perate  clime,  but  the  loss  in  luxuriance  is  more  than  balanced 
l>y  the  gain  in  delicate  coloring  and  refinement. 

Later  in  the  season  the  moss  is  plentifully  sprinkled  with 
salmon  berries,  and  blueberries  are  abundant. 

The  story  of  the  discovery  of  gold  in  this  section  of  North- 
western Alaska  has  been  often  told  and  need  not  be  repeated 
here.  In  1898,  when  the  first  "prospects"  were  found,  it  was 
not  dreamed  that  a  gold  bearing  area  of  country  extending  from 
Norton  Bay  to  the  Arctic  Ocean  and  for  one  hundred  miles 
inland  from  the  coast  of  Bering  Sea  ever  existed.  Yet  such 
was  the  case;  the  developments  since  that  time  have  amply 
demonstrated  the  fact  that  here  in  this  bleak  country  are 
deposits  of  gold  which  for  richness  and  extent  have  never  been 
equalled  in  the  history  of  gold  discoveries.  And  these  do  not 
only  include  placer,  but  quartz  as  well.  Prospecting  for 
quartz  may  be  said  to  have  only  been  begun,  but  enough  work 
has  been  accomplished  to  show  the  existence  of  both  gold  and 
copper  ledges,  some  of  which  promise  to  be  exceedingly  rich 
and  valuable.  Galena  mines  in  the  Fish  River  country  were 
worked  years  ago,  but  these  have  long  since  been  abandoned, 
not  because  the  ledges  were  exhausted,  but  because  of  the 
"slump"  in  the  price  of  silver  and  the  cost  of  working  these 
mines  under  the  difficult  conditions  existing  at  that  time. 

As  has  been  stated  the  placer  prospects  extend  from  Norton 
Bay  over  all  Northwestern  Alaska.  The  mining  district  which 
has  hitherto  commanded  the  greatest  amount  of  attention,  by 
reason  of  its  discovery  and  development  work,  is  Cape  Nome. 
The  fame  of  Anvil,  Snow,  Glacier  and  Dexter  Creeks  has  gone 
abroad.  Dozens  of  others  have  been  added  to  the  list  of  actual 
producers,  besides  a  large  area  of  rich  bench  claims  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Anvil  and  Dexter  Creeks,  and  many  of  which 
have  proved  phenomenally  rich. 

Very  little  work  has  been  done  in  the  Norton  Bay  country. 
This  section  is  well  watered  and  wooded,  and  will  undoubtedly 
be  added  to  the  list  of  gold  producers.  Extensive  quartz 
ledges  have  also  been  found  here,  as  well  as  a  fine  quality  of 
coal. 

In  the  Council  City,  or  Golvin  Bay  country,  a  great  deal  of 
work  has  been  done.  There  are  many  promising  creeks  in  this 
section,  actual  producers,  among  which  may  be  mentioned 
Ophir,  Crooked,  Sweetcake,  Elkhorn,  besides  scores  of  others 


140  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

upon  wiich  sufficient  development  work  has  been  done  to 
establish  the  fact  that  they  contain  pay.  Ophir  is  a  rich  creek 
and  has  already  produced  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  in 
dust. 

Tributary  to  Council  City,  Teller  and  Nome  is  the  great 
Casa  de  poga  country,  embracing  thousands  of  creeks  and 
river  benches.  A  good  deal  of  prospecting  has  been  done,  but 
little  actual  mining  work  has  been  accomplished. 

The  origin  of  the  name  Nome  has  never  been  discussed  in 
print.  People  have  speculated  about  it,  and  wondered  if  there 
were  natives  here  who  believed  in  elfs  and  fairies  and  gnomes 
and  other  sprites,  and  if  this  particular  part  of  the  peninsula 
was  the  habitat  of  the  gnomes.  But  the  natives  are  not  so 
poetical  and  imaginative.  The  gnomes  of  fairyland  are 
strangers  to  the  Eskimo.  He  is  not  as  sublime  as  the  "Poor 
Indian  who  sees  God  in  the  cloud  and  hears  Him  in  the  wind. ' ' 
His  deities  inhabit  beavers  and  wolves. 

The  Eskimo  equivalent  for  "No"  is  "no  me";  for  "I  don't 
know",  "Ka  no  me." 

In  the  earlier  days,  when  there  were  but  few  white  men  on 
the  peninsula,  a  whaler  or  trader  on  landing  would  inquire  of 
the  natives  about  something  or  someone.  The  answer  was 
almost  invariably,  "no  me"  or  "Ka  no  me",  and  these  terms 
have  been  abbreviated  into  the  monosyllable  Nome.  Hence 
the  name. 

Probably,  if  a  California  miner  had  named  Nome,  following 
the  example  of  those  who  named  Hangtown,  Jimtown,  Big  Oak 
Flat,  and  other  places  according  to  the  Indian  custom,  he 
might  have  called  it  Stringtown,  because  it  is  strung  along  the 
beach  for  several  miles.  Nome  town  lots  have  been  staked  on 
the  shores  of  the  Bering  Sea  for  three  miles,  and  Teller  is 
almost  as  long.  During  the  summer  of  1900  there  were  tents 
five  times  that  distance,  and  occasional  stores,  and  saloons  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  miners.  At  one  time,  there  were 
fifteen  thousand  people  in  Nome  and  all  day  long  the  crowd  on 
the  main  street  equalled  any  seen  on  the  principal  thorough- 
fare of  a  metropolis. 

When  navigation  closes  the  town  is  confined  to  an  area  of 
three  square  miles,  and  consists  of  a  population  of  probably 
5000.  Considering  its  age,  it  is  substantially  constructed. 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  141 

The  buildings  liave  been  put  up  for  winter  use,  and  are  pro- 
vided with  double  floors,  ceilings  and  storm  doors. 

Nome  has  two  principal  streets,  First  and  Second,  running 
parallel  to  the  beach.  Most  of  the  business  is  conducted  on 
First  street.  The  principal  cross  street  is  Steadman  Avenue. 
Nearly  every  important  business  is  represented  at  Nome.  The 
number  of  business  houses  and  offices  is  not  less  than  400. 
There  is  a  telephone  system  connecting  the  leading  business 
houses  and  the  town  with  the  mines  on  Anvil  and  Dexter 
creeks.  The  Nome  water  company  has  a  pipe  line  from  Anvil 
mountain  to  Nome,  and  supplies  the  town  with  pure  spring 
water. 

One  of  the  most  novel  features  of  Nome,  because  one  would 
hardly  expect  to  find  such  a  thing  in  this  remote  region  is  the 
wild  goose  railroad.  This  road  is  five  miles  long  connecting 
Nome  with  the  Anvil  mines.  The  cheerful  whistle  of  the 
little  engine  is  heard  with  a  feeling  of  pride  and  pleasure,  as 
a  railroad  indicates  one  of  the  most  important  steps  in  the 
development  of  a  country.  The  growth  of  Nome  from  a  popu- 
lation of  2500  in  the  winter  of  1899,  to  15,000  in  1900,  is  remark- 
able. Nome  has  incorporated,  being  the  only  incorporated 
town  in  Alaska.  About  300  regular  soldiers  are  stationed 
there,  and  before  incorporation,  they  afforded  police  protection. 
But,  at  no  time,  has  the  camp  been  riotous  or  unruly.  Con- 
sidering the  fact  that  a  new  mining  camp  is  generally  the 
Mecca  of  many  disreputable  and  hard-case  adventurers,  the 
town  has  been  remarkably  quiet  and  orderly. 

Nome  has  four  churches,  the  Catholic,  Episcopal,  Congrega- 
tional and  Presbyterian,  and  a  weekly  meeting  of  Theosophists 
and  people  interested  in  that  line  of  thought,  is  held.  There 
is  a  school  and  good  postal  facilities.  A  large  and  commodious 
court  house  has  been  built  for  the  accommodation  of  the  dis- 
trict court.  Considering  all  circumstances,  Nome  is  an  up- 
to-date  city,  and  an  illustration  of  the  wonderful  enterprise 
and  capability  of  the  progressive  American. 

A  railroad  to  Teller,  which  is  one  of  the  probabilities  of  the 
near  future,  will  connect  Nome  with  one  of  the  best  harbors, 
on  the  coast,  and  open  up  one  of  the  finest  mineral  countries  of 
the  world. 

The  facts  unquestioned  by  those  who  know  anything  about 


142  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

the  country,  that  there  are  the  most  extensive  gold  fields  on 
this  peninsula  ever  discovered,  and  that  the  country  contiguous 
to  Nome  and  Teller  is  rich  with  the  precious  mineral,  and  will 
not  be  worked  out  for  many  years,  presage  a  future  bright 
from  a  commercial  standpoint,  and  full  of  promise  to  all  who 
have  been  fortunate  enough  to  secure  interests  here. 

Teller  is  named  after  United  States  Senator  Teller,  the  man 
who  has  done  so  much  for  the  miners  of  Alaska  in  particular, 
and  the  other  member  of  that  craft,  wheresoever  dispersed 
around  the  United  States.  It  has  the  distinction  of  being  the 
most  northern  town  on  the  American  continent. 

Within  a  month  after  the  first  tent  was  put  up,  there  was  a 
population  of  fully  one  thousand  souls,  the  result  of  the  wonder- 
ful discoveries  on  the  Bluestone,  Krougarock,  and  other  adjoin- 
ing districts. 

Unlike  Nome,  Teller  is  founded  on  a  gravel  bed.  There  is 
little  or  no  tundra  on  the  town  site.  It  has  a  most  excellent 
harbor.  In  fact,  there  is  what  might  be  called  an  outer  and 
an  inner  harbor,  as  the  town  faces  both  Port  Clarence  Bay, 
itself  well  protected,  and  Grant  ley  Harbor,  a  smaller  body  of 
water,  tributary  to  the  Bay  and  a  typical  haven.  Though  a 
year  younger,  Teller  bids  fair  to  rival  and  even  outdo  Nome 
in  growth.  It  has  two  wide  business  streets  and  is  very  neatly 
laid  out.  There  were  six  or  eight  stores,  four  hotels  and 
seventeen  saloons  in  full  blast  before  the  camp  was  a  month 
old.  Steps  are  being  taken  to  incorporate,  and  no  doubt  before 
this  book  goes  to  press  this  will  have  become  an  accomplished 
fact. 

There  had  not  been  a  single  death  from  disease  in  Teller 
up  to  the  time  I  left.  This  shows  that  the  location  is  a  healthy 
one.  It  is  the  key  city  to  the  newly  discovered  gold  fields,  and 
if  they  turn  out  as  well  as  the  prospects  indicate,  the  future 
of  the  camp  will  be  a  bright  one. 

When  a  person  makes  up  his  mind  to  go  to  Alaska,  the  first 
question  that  presents  itself  is  what  to  take  along  in  the  way 
of  provisions,  clothing,  etc.  All  the  pamphlets  on  Alaska  con- 
tain a  list  of  the  things  one  should  have.  Some  of  these  writers 
have  never  been  in  Alaska,  and  the  "cheechako"  upon  his 
arrival  here,  finds  himself  provided  with  a  lot  of  useless  truck, 
and  unprovided'  with  many  things  that  are  necessary. 

The  best  way  to  obviate  this  is  to  bring  only  such  articles  as 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  143 

are  necessary,  and  buy  what  yon  need  after  arriving  here.  If 
one  comes  to  prospect  and  mine  there  is  a  splendid  opportunity 
to  get  a  second  service  out  of  old  clothes.  If  one  lives  in  town, 
he  should  dress  as  he  would  in  any  other  civilized  and  respect- 
able community.  But  these  are  matters  that  can  be  easily 
settled  after  he  gets  here. 


HOMEWARD  BOUND. 


By  Sam  C.  Dunham. 

I  am  out  upon  the  ocean, 

Sailing  southward  to  the  Sound 
With  six  hundred  busted  brothers, 

Kicking  hard,  but  homeward  bound. 
There  are  sixty  in  the  staterooms 

And  some  eighty  souls  or  so 
Sleeping  on  the  floors  and  tables, 

While  the  rest  seek  sleep  below. 

Of  the  sixty  in  the  cabin 

Only  thirty  had  the  stuff, 
While  the  others  came  on  passes 

Or  some  other  sort  of  bluff. 
How  the  hundreds  in  the  steerage 

Got  the  gold  to  get  them  home, 
Always  will  remain  the  greatest 

Of  the  mvsteries  of  Nome. 


There 's  a  siren  from  Seattle 

Who  is  traveling  in  style, 
Basking  in  the  brilliant  sunshine 

Of  the  purser's  dazzling  smile, 
She  has  jumped  a  first-class  stateroom 

That  is  simply  out  of  sight. 
And  has  oranges  and  apples 

With  her  champagne  every  night. 

There's  a  widow  with  two  children 
Who  is  trying  to  get  home, 


144  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 


Having  given  up  the  struggle 

When  her  husband  died  at  Nome. 
Both  her  kids  exhibit  cravings 

For  all  kinds  of  fruit  and  things, 
But  they  can't  get  'nough  of  either 

To  distend  their  little  strings. 

There's  a  smooth  absconding  lawyer, 

Wearing  diamonds  like  a  sport, 
Who  spends  all  his  lucid  moments 

Praising  Nome 's  imported  court. 
He  has  beefsteaks  in  his  stateroom, 

Purloined  by  the  pantryman, 
While  his  clients  in  the  steerage 

Eat  cold  corn-beef  from  a.  can. 

There's  a  Topkuk  sub-receiver 

Who  is  smuggling  like  a  thief 
All  the  gold  the  gang  could  gobble 

For  their  late  transported  chief. 
He  indulges  in  fresh  oysters, 

Fine  cigars  and  foreign  wines, 
While  the  man  who  first  staked  Topkuk 

Tells  us  how  they  robbed  his  mines. 

* 

There  are  counts  galore  from  Paris 

And  a  few  of  them  from  Spain, 
Who  invaded  Nome  to  traffic; 

But  they'll  not  do  so  again, 
For  they  found  their  debts  so  heavy 

That  they  had  to  leave  them  there, 
While  their  unpaid  dago  valets 

Had  to  come  out  on  the  Bear. 

Late  last  night  they  gave  a  banquet, 
And  imposed  some  heavy  fines 

To  defray  the  steward's  charges 

For  his  bummest  brands  of  wines. 

All  the  guests  stood  the  assessment 
Without  making  any  kick, 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  145 

But  as  soon  as  they  get  sober 
They'll  appreciate  the  trick. 

I  shall  not  recount  the  horrors 

And  the  terrors  of  the  trip, 
For  the  same  may  be  imagined 

By  all  those  who  know  the  ship; 
But  I'll  simply  say  in  closing 

That  the  most  distressing  fact 
That  has  come  to  my  attention 

Is  the  way  the  ladies  act. 


THE  END. 


146  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

AFFIDAVIT  OF  G.  P.  HALL. 

UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA,  ) 

District  of  Alaska,  f  ss* 

G.  P.  Hall,  being  first  duly  sworn,  deposes  and  says: 

"I  know  James  A.  Hall.  I  first  met  him  on  or  about  July 
12th,  1900,  and  on  July  15th,  1900,  he  started  in  company  with 
Dr.  W.  T.  S  Vincent  and  myself  on  a  three  days'  trip  into  the 
mountains  near  the  coast  of  the  Arctic  Ocean  in  search  of  a 
quartz  prospect  that  Dr.  Vincent  and  I  had  information  about. 
On  the  evening  of  July  17th,  1900,  we  were  separated  from  Mr. 
Hall,  on  the  top  of  a  high,  rough  mountain,  in  a  dense  fog. 
We  expected  to  be  back  at  Teller  again  within  three  days  after 
we  started,  so  only  took  provision  for  that  length  of  time. 

"I  know  that  Mr.  Hall  did  not  have  as  much  as  three  pounds 
of  food  left  when  we  were  separated,  and  had  no  compass, 
gun  or  fishing  apparatus.  Shortly  after  we  were  parted  from 
liiu  we  were  ourselves  lost  for  some  time. 

"The  day  after  our  separation  was  a  clear,  bright  one,  and 
from  the  top  of  that  high  mountain  he  could  easily  have  seen 
and  mistaken  a  spit  on  the  Arctic  Ocean  for  one  on  the  Bering 
Sea. 

"Distances  are  very  deceptive  in  the  atmosphere  of  this 
country.  Heavy,  cold  rain  storms  began  about  August  1st, 

1900,  and  lasted  until    about  the   1st  of    September,    when  it 
began  snowing. 

"During  August,  there  was  one  of  the  heaviest  rain  storms 
I  have  ever  seen  in  my  several  years  in  this  country. 
"Mr.  Hall  was  clad  in  summer  clothing." 

G.  P.  HALL. 
Subscribed  and  sworn  to  before  me  this  24th  day  of  July, 

1901.  T.  G.  WILSON, 
Notary  Public  in  and  for  the  District  of  Alaska. 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S   LONGEST  FAST  147 

CERTIFICATE     OF     ERNEST     G.     ROGNON,     EX-U.     S. 

COMMISSIONER. 

Teller,  Alaska,  Aug.  20,  1901. 
To  Whom  It  May  Concern: 

The  experience  of  Janies  A.  Hall,  as  related  in  Ms  book, 
'•Starving  on  a  Bed  of  Gold,"  is  so  remarkable  that  many 
people  will  no  doubt  find  it  difficult  to  believe  that  anyone 
could  survive  such  suffering  and  hardships  and  be  able  to  tell 
the  story.  On  August  28th,  1900,  Dr.  W.  B.  Deas  brought  to 
my  office,  when  I  was  the  U.  S.  Commissioner  at  Teller,  the 
valise  and  other  personal  effects  of  Mr.  Hall,  with  the  request 
that  I  forward  them  to  his  relatives,  since  there  was  no  doubt 
that  Mr.  Hall  had  perished.  I  was  here  when  he  was  brought 
to  Teller,  and  know  that  the  main  facts  as  narrated  by  him  are 
true.  ERNEST  GL  EOGNON, 

Ex.-TJ.  S.  Commissioner. 


148  STARVING  ON  A  BED  OF  GOLD 

AFFIDAVIT  OF  WILLIAM  M.  WILSON,  OF  THE  FIRM  OF 
" WILSON  BROS." 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA, 
District  of  Alaska, 


William  M.  Wilson,  being  duly  sworn,  says: 

"I  know  James  A.  Hall  and  have  known  him  since  about 
the  middle  of  June,  1900. 

"On  July  15th,  1900,  he  started  from  the  then  town  of  Teller, 
on  Port  Clarence  Bay,  Alaska,  with  two  other  men,  to  go  on 
a  three  or  four  days'  prospecting  trip  in  the  mountains  near 
the  Arctic  Ocean.  I  put  up  the  provisions  for  him  myself. 
He  took  about  three  pounds  of  bacon,  a  few  crackers,  a  little 
salt  and  a  half-pound  can  of  coffee.  He  had  no  firearms  nor 
fishing  apparatus  with  him.  He  was  brought  directly  to  our 
house  by  his  rescuers.  I  did  not  know  him  at  first,  though  I 
was  so  well  acquainted  with  him  at  old  Teller.  He  was  a  com- 
plete skeleton,  although  he  had  weighed  fully  225  pounds  when 
he  left  our  store  on  July  15th. 

"Mr.  HalPs  reputation  for  truthfulness  is  first-class  and 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  states  all  the  facts  just  as  they 
occurred.  It  is  not  doubted  in  this  community,  in  fact  there 
are  dozens  of  witnesses  as  to  the  length  of  time  he  was  lost, 
the  amount  of  food  he  had  with  him,  the  condition  of  the 
weather  he  experienced  and  his  physical  condition  when  found. 

W.  M.  WILSON. 

Subscribed  and  sworn  to  before  me  this  llth  day  of  October, 
1901.  EOBEET  M.  PEICE, 

Notary  Public  for  the  District  of  Alaska. 


OR,  THE  WORLD'S  LONGEST  FAST  149 

AFFIDAVIT   OF   THE   MAYOR   AND   POSTMASTER   OF 
TELLER,  ALASKA. 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMEKICA, 

District  of  Alaska, 


Thomas  G.  Wilson,  being  first  duly  sworn,  says: 

1  i  I  know  James  A.  Hall  and  have  known  him  since  about  the 
middle  of  June,  1900. 

On  July  15th  1900,  he  left  the  then  town  of  Teller,  on  Port 
Clarence  Bay,  Alaska,  with  two  other  men,  to  go  on  a  three- 
days  '  prospecting  trip  in  the  mountains,  near  the  Arctic  Ocean. 
He  took  his  provisions  for  the  trip  from  the  store  of  *  Wilson 
Bros.7,  of  which  I  was  one  of  the  proprietors.  He  took  some 
bacon,  crackers,  coffee  and  salt — there  not  being  over  three 
pounds  of  bacon  and  a  very  small  quantity  of  crackers.  I  took 
him  and  the  two  men  who  accompanied  him  down  to  what  is 
known  as  the  Government  Eeindeer  Station  in  my  launch,  and 
I  know  he  had  no  firearms  or  fishing  tackle. 

"We  had  all  given  him  up  for  dead  many  weeks  before  he 
was  finally  brought  in  to  our  hotel,  in  the  present  town  of 
Teller  (about  seven  miles  from  the  town  he  left)  on  or  about 
September  26th,  1900.  He  was  a  strong,  healthy  man,  of  about 
225  pounds  in  weight,  and  six  feet  and  an  inch  and  a  half  tall, 
when  he  started,  and  when  brought  into  our  place  on  a 
stretcher,  was  as  near  a  skeleton  as  it  seems  possible  for  a 
living  human  being  to  be.  Though  I  had  known  him  inti- 
mately before  he  went  on  the  trip,  it  was  some  time  before  I 
recognized  him  when  brought  in.  It  was  about  a  month  before 
he  could  walk  across  the  floor.  He  stayed  at  our  hotel  all  the 
terrible  winter  just  passed,  and  it  was  predicted  by  a  large 
number  of  the  residents  of  this  town  that  he  would  not  li  e 
until  spring.  The  last  winter  is  reported  to  be  the  worst  one 
that  has  occurred  in  this  part  of  Alaska  for  twenty  years. 

T.  G.  WILSON, 

Subscribed  ana  sworn  to  before  me  this  llth  day  of 
October,  A.  D.  1901. 

EOBEET  M.  PEICE, 
Notary  Public  in  and  for  the  District  of  Alaska. 


UNIVERSITY    OF    CALIFORNIA 
LIBRARY 


This  is  the  date  on  which  this 
book  was  charged  out. 


i 


JAN  2  7  1995 

b.v 

16Aug'60GM 
R 

:isn 


1 


YC 


I  J 


